Thresholds
by NebulaSpider
Summary: Karigan has shattered the looking glass and removed the most convenient source of Mornhavon's potential power in Blackveil Forest, but she still has to find a way to defeat him once and for all. Will she survive long enough to harness her powers?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own and have no rights to Kristen Britain's published work. Green Rider and its universe belongs in its entirety to her. I have nothing but enjoyment from playing in her world. Thank you, Ms. Britain!

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><p><em>She tried to sit up, but bumped her head on stone. She explored around herself with her hands. Smooth, cold stone all around her. She was enclosed in a rectangular box.<em>

_ Seized by panic she screamed, kicking and hitting the sides of her prison despite her broken wrist. Warm blood trickled down her forearms from shredded knuckles. No one responded to her cries for help. She tried to force herself to calm down, her breathing ragged._

_ She would suffocate, expire in some unknown tomb. No one would ever know what happened to her, or where to look. Was she still in Blackveil? Elsewhere? What had the shattering of the looking mask done with her?_

_ Taking another shuddering breath, she realized she probably would never find out._

-excerpt from Kristen Britain's "Blackveil", pp 663

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><p>"Thresholds"<p>

Her father would be beside himself with grief when he found out she was missing. He might hold out hope of finding her for a little while, but eventually he would have to acknowledge that she was dead. She had never really been open with him about her life as a Green Rider and now she would never get that chance. Remembering the letter she left for him was cold comfort.

The Clan legacy would die with her as well, for he had no other heirs to continue his business. His grief might even turn to anger against the Riders and the Crown that she served. Hot tears seeped slowly down her cheeks. Surely Captain Mapstone would persuade her father that anger was useless? Karigan had agreed to go of her own free will after all.

"Come back safely, Rider. To me." King Zachary's last words whispered in her memory and with a low cry of anguish, Karigan pushed away all thoughts of him. She couldn't bear to think of him right now. It hurt too much.

Other faces crowded into her thoughts and she wondered if they might miss her when she was dead. Garth, Tegan, Connely, Dale...even Fergal. She would miss seeing him reunite with his Rider colt and watching their bond form. She would miss coaxing Mara out into public. Would she continue training at staves with Donal? What of Brienne and Fastion? They were the first Weapons to call her sister-at-arms. She thought of the Captain next, and all of the ways that woman guided and protected the Riders under her command. She would miss Captain Mapstone. She would miss them all.

For the first time since descending the D'Yer Wall into Blackveil Forest, Karigan thought about her best friend Estral and the bond she had found with Alton. A sluggish ghost of the old hurt curled up around her heart, but for a change she was able to think through the pain. It wasn't so much the fact that they found love with each other that hurt so much. It was Estral's betrayal of her confidences and Alton's desire to hide the relationship from her that had hurt so badly. She hoped that they would forgive her childish behavior at the Wall and not grieve too long nor feel too guilty. Maybe they would comfort each other.

Hazily, she realized that it was getting harder for her to breath. The air was still and stale. Her breaths rasped in the dark silence. Karigan could not remain calm any longer. She started to cry out and scream again, kicking and hammering against the stone walls of her prison again. The wounds on her legs broke open again and new ones opened on her knees and elbows, but she could not make herself stop this time. She was going to die in this box, but she did not have to die quietly. She scrubbed her cheek roughly on her shoulder. Something scratched her chin; her brooch. Would her brooch one day find its way back to the Riders?

Her movements became slower and more sluggish, her screams quieter. Her thoughts felt muffled, as if a dense blanket had been thrown on top of them. She was close to the end, then. Her eyes drooped shut and a few more tears trickled down her face. Here at the end she could no longer repress her thoughts of the one she loved. Zachary's serious almond-shaped eyes gazed at her sadly in her memories. If her letter to her father brought little comfort, at least her letter to her king brought some peace. He would finally know that she returned his feelings. She imagined a rare smile curving his lips as he read her revelations, only to see his face crumble with grief as he remembered that she was lost to him. _No, Zachary,_ she tried to say. _You mustn't grieve for me._

_Karigan, you must come back. To me,_ he pleaded. Her eyes were so heavy. She could no longer to lift them up to look at him. _Karigan!_

_Goodbye, Zachary, _she sighed in her mind._ I love you so much. Know that I love you._

"Karigan!" the cry seemed a little less far away this time. Curiosity stirred, but she just did not have the energy to find out what he wanted. With a little sigh, she heard the last of the air leave her lungs and felt Westrion's wings open up to enfold her again. _Don't leave me this time_, she thought.

Love washed over her, along with regret. _I have never left you_, the great clarion voice whispered deep in her heart. _I will never leave you. You are not yet done with the mortal world, child of mine._ There was a final feeling of comfort before even that left her and she felt nothing.

Lhean worked his way over the rubble as quickly as he dared. He carried his muna'riel with him, of course, but the light only served to make the broken stones cast deep shadows that even his keen vision could not easily penetrate. He paused for a moment at the base of a cracked column, listening for another sound to let him know where his companion was. He was positive it was Karigan. It sounded like she was in trouble or in pain. Given her wounds and his observations of her character during their journey, Lhean would not be surprised if both were true. The human woman was ridiculously prone to finding herself in dangerous situations.

"Karigan!" he called again. "Karigan! If you hear me, call out!" His only answer was dirt sifting through the dim glow of the moonstone. He turned, holding his hand up high so he could see as much as possible. He was evidently underground somewhere, among ruins hundreds of years old. The floor was natural stone. In some places it was worked smooth and in some places left rough, but everywhere it was covered in a deep layer of dust and dirt. There was no life flowing down here to attune himself with. It was a worrisome sign.

He turned again, trying vainly to determine where he had heard Karigan's cries. At the very edge of the circle of light, a massive wall stood. Rising up from the moving shadows, a carving of the human's Death God and his steed stared out over the ruins. At the base of that carving stood a plain, unornamented tomb of smooth stone. Karigan's gift was to stand on the threshold between the layers of the world. Could her brooch have taken her here, to this place of death?

He rushed through the ruins. There was no sign of anyone inside, but Lhean could feel the faint ribbon of mortal life fading from the waking world. If she were not inside, it was too late to find her. He braced his back against the carved wall and settled both feet on the edge of the tomb's lid. Dust fell around him from the wall, and he spared a moment to thank Laurelyn that the wall was not in as much disrepair as the rest of the stonework. Slowly, he increased the amount of pressure he was putting on the stone, until it felt like his back might become a part of the wall itself. With a heavy scraping moan, the lid slid back several inches.

Not pausing to catch his breath, the Eletian shone his muna'riel inside. The light illuminated Karigan laying motionless inside. "Karigan!" She was not breathing, but he could see that blood still seeped sluggishly from the worst of her wounds. Life had not completely left her yet. He managed to shove the lid back another inch, but then ran out of leverage.

Casting around for something solid enough to use as a lever, his eye fell on the staff under the Rider's body. Lhean eyed it. He did not want to touch that staff, to feel the death flowing through it. Was it not bad enough they were in a place of death already? He longed for the life and light of his forest. There was nothing else to use, though. He could leave the Rider in her tomb or he could free her.

Karigan had chosen to save what she could of his people in Argenthyne. He would not do less.

Taking a deep breath, he braced himself and grasped her staff. He had just enough room to get the staff out through the opening he had already made. With the staff as leverage, it was just the work of a moment to slide back the lid enough to free Karigan. He slid her out as carefully as possible, although there was no way to avoid breaking open some of her wounds and making the others worse. He lay her out on the floor next to the tomb. He pressed very firmly on her chest before leaning over and sharing his own breath with her. After a moment, he pressed on her chest again, then gave her another breath.

All of a sudden, Karigan started choking as she tried to breath on her own. The fit subsided on its own, but fresh tears of pain welled up in her eyes. She shielded her eyes from the light of the moonstone. "Westrion?"

Lhean couldn't help but sigh. He would never understand humans. "No, Galadheon. I am Lhean."

"Oh." After a moment, she pushed herself up to sit against the tomb. "I thought I was dead. How did you find me? Where are we? When are we?" She watched as the Eletian started to catalog her injuries. His face remained as serene as ever, but she had some sense of him after their journey and she could feel the concern he had for her as he started to bind the worst of the wounds.

"A valid concern, especially with you," he said dryly. "However, I believe we are in the proper time and somewhere in Sacoridia."

"How do you know..?" She clamped her mouth shut as he pointed to the giant carved wall depicting Westrion and Salvistar.

"As for how I found you," Lhean continued, "I heard you screaming. I almost did not reach you in time. You were not breathing when I pulled you out of his tomb." He yanked out a large shard of the looking mask from her calf and wrapped a dirty piece of cloth around it. Neither of them had anything resembling clean bandages.

"It may still be too late," she said. She could almost feel the blood leaving her body, although she was too cold and numb to really feel anything except the fiery pain radiating from her wrist and thigh. With his help, she managed to get to her feet. A few careful steps proved that she could walk so long as she could lean on her staff. Not for the first time during this journey, she blessed the Black Shields for their gift.

"What will be, will be, Galadheon," Lhean said softly. "You have already given the Eletians the greatest gift any of us could imagine. I will not leave you now."

Karigan felt her throat close up. "Thank you," she forced past the lump. "I think if you can hold the light I can follow your lead. Do you have any idea of which way to go?" Silence was her only answer.

The Eletian started to pick his way slowly across the broken stone. He was careful to slow his pace to something he thought the Green Rider could manage, but she still had a hard time keeping up, especially when they had to scramble over ruins. All around them, heavy layers of dirt proved that this place was lost to mortal memory. Time passed interminably. There was nothing to distinguish one moment from the next and no way to tell how long they had been scrambling in the buried city.

"Enough." Karigan wearily slumped down on a jagged outcropping of rock. "I can't go any further. Go without me."

Without a word, Lhean reached down to haul her to her feet. With his support on one side and the staff on the other, she managed to continue limping forward. The whole experience became a living nightmare for Karigan. She felt weaker and weaker and the pain from her shattered wrist grew worse. She knew she had to still be losing blood at an alarming rate. Pretty soon, there would be none left and Karigan would be spread out across these buried ruins for an eternity. She giggled helplessly at the thought. She must be close to death again for something like that to be funny.

She gradually allowed the world to slip further and further away. It hurt less that way, since her body did not really seem to be hers anymore. Maybe she should have stayed in the tomb and let Westrion take her. But he didn't want her yet. Somewhere she found the strength to cry a little bit more over that until the floor fell out from under her and she seemed to float, drifting in a thoughtless haze.

Lhean wrapped both of his arms around her Karigan's waist to help keep her upright. She no longer seemed aware of their surroundings, but she still stumbled forward, following his lead. Their pace slowed to a crawl. The Eletian was badly wounded as well from the breaking of the mask and supporting his weight as well as the Rider's was taking its toll more quickly than he had hoped. If they did not find help soon, they would both die in this forgotten city. He suppressed a shiver. He did not want to die underground surrounded by this unliving stone. Lhean took some comfort in the dim light of his muna'riel, but that too would be gone soon.

"Laurelyn, watch over those you have touched with your light," he murmured, bowing his head in remembrance. Feeling subtly reassured, as he always did after the rote prayer, he continued to support Karigan as they forced their bodies to keep moving.


	2. Chapter 2

Still, heavy silence lay over the labyrinthine tomb complex like a shroud. Sergeant Brienne Quinn settled her heavy fur-lined cloak over her shoulders to stave off the deep and bitter cold that was always present this far underground no matter what season it was outside. By the end of her shift, she would still most likely be chilled, but she was used to it. She liked the cold; it was such a startling contrast to her childhood home. With a brief nod, the Weapon nodded to her fellow tomb guards. Silently, they all headed out for their assigned posts.

As was her habit during her watch, Brienne checked in with the caretakers first. She knew that many even among the tomb guards were a little disturbed by the small, colorless people, but she admired their dedication to their tasks. In their own way, they were as important to the tombs as the Weapons were. The guards prowled the maze of tombs and guarded the interred and their treasures fiercely against trespassers and thieves, but it was the caretakers that preserved those things. Without them, a lot of Sacoridian history would crumble into forgotten dust.

She came across Roulin first, as usual. "Hello, Roulin. Is Agemon nearby?" The small man shook his head briefly and scurried away with his burdens. He was the tallest of the caretakers to her knowledge and he still came only to her shoulder. His relative height ensured that he was the one most often responsible for filling and polishing the lanterns hung at intervals along the most traversed paths.

Brienne was used to the timidity of the caretakers and never took offense when they did not speak to her. She simply settled into the smooth glide she always used on duty. Silent and swift, it was an easy motion to turn into a fighting stance should it become necessary. This passageway, while not as grand as some of the main ways, was one of the longest. It stretched across the whole of the known tombs from the Weapons' Door, through their meeting room, to the caretakers' village and beyond. The corridor was well-tended and solidly built, but once past the main rooms along its twisting route there was little light. The occasional branching corridors appeared only as murky recesses.

Her rounds passed quickly and silently, as they always seemed to. She remained alert at all times and explored any sound or motion that seemed out of place. Sometimes, these small noises were from rats or other small animals trying to eke out a living in the unwelcoming stone world. Most of the time, the flitting shadow she caught in the corner of her eye was only one of the caretakers. Occasionally, they would acknowledge her with a low greeting. Brienne always made sure that she responded to these few by name.

As she moved toward to an intersection that would take her back to the main portion of the tombs, Agemon scurried toward her. The shapeless bundle of his robes flapped around his ankles. Brienne frowned. "Agemon? What's wrong?" She started to move past him, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword. He reached out a hand to halt her, jerking it back well before he touched her sleeve.

"There is a..disturbance, Sergeant Quinn. It is deep."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

The caretaker hunched his shoulders. "The disturbance is deep, far past the village and beneath the stone curtain. It seems to be moving closer, however."

Despite her best efforts, Brienne could feel her frown deepen. She was used to the half-sentences and riddles that the caretakers sometimes spoke in when it came to the secrets of the tombs they lived in and cared for, but she had never heard of the stone curtain. She drew her sword. "Show me," she commanded.

They passed swiftly through the furthest reaches of the tombs, pausing only for the Weapon to ask the next caretaker they passed to alert the other Weapons as soon as possible. Soon they passed out of the mortared hallway and into the natural section that marked the home of the caretakers. The only worked stone here were the buildings themselves and even these looked more like haphazard piles of boulders and columns than livable structures. Here there were no lanterns at all and only one rough passage continued past the village. Agemon let her take the lead, following behind with a torch to light the way. A mile or so later, the passage abruptly ended at an ancient cave in where tons of rock had fallen, blocking the way.

"The stone curtain," Agemon said simply. "Listen."

At first, Brienne only heard the faint crackling of the torch. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her surroundings, straining to hear into the darkness. Gradually, she was able to pick out other sounds. A faint sighing of air. A drop of water, echoing from a far distance. A slight shuffling noise. Her eyes flew snapped open. Something or someone was definitely moving beyond the rock fall. They weren't close yet, but a slight sigh reached her ears, courtesy of the errant breeze. They were definitely coming closer.

"Go and lead the others here," she whispered to Agemon. He thrust the torch into her free hand. Startled, she glanced at him. He shrugged and shook his head. He was used to the darkness, of course, and wouldn't need the light to make his way back to the village and the others. Once the slight noise of his hurried departure faded completely, Brienne picked her way slowly along the edge of the wall.

The site of the cave in seemed like a dead end, but Fastion had shown her that the rubble simply blocked easy access into the unexplored depths beneath even the lowest level of the tombs. If one were patient and willing to take the chance of becoming hopelessly lost, there was a narrow and twisting way through the blockage. Even the most determined explorer was likely to miss the access point; Fastion had only found it in an accident that nearly cost him his life in his first months as a tomb guard. He had shown it to her when they were getting past the strangeness of knowing each other.

Brienne hesitated once she found the particular formation that marked the cleft. Her training and common sense told her she should stay put and wait for the others to back her up. Her instincts encouraged her to investigate further because she couldn't afford to waste time. After a brief struggle, instinct won. She pushed the torch between two rocks to hold it. That would mark the entrance for the others if they should arrive before she returned. Behind the same rock was the remnant of the torch she and Fastion had used the one time they attempted to explore beyond this point. It only took a moment to light it. She sheathed her sword, pulled off the belt and flattened herself to wiggle through the opening, holding the torch in front of her and pulling her sword behind her. The rocks scraped her thighs and shoulders, and she gritted her teeth against the feeling of being buried underneath all of the rock above her head. _At least it won't be difficult to block off this route if it's necessary later_, she mused wryly.

Once free of the confining rock, she crouched near the opening for a long moment. She could no longer hear the faint sounds that had drawn her here. Silently, the Weapon slid forward slowly. The light flickered off of a bend in the passageway in front of her. She hated the torch she held. It would surely announce her presence to anyone down here long before she would detect them, but she couldn't see without it. She paused just before that point, straining again to hear anything that would give her a clue as to what was beyond it.

Before she made up her mind to move, she heard the same sound that had drawn her here. Without the solid mass of the fallen rock to distort it, it was clearly a sharp moan of pain. More than that, it sounded familiar. Brienne moved around the bend before she could help herself. The sight that met her eyes made her stop dead in her tracks.

The passage expanded into a natural cavern so large she couldn't see the ceiling or the far walls with her dim torch. Everywhere were signs of crumbled civilization. Carved pillars lay in shattered heaps. Ancient paving was cracked and gaping. Piles of rocks could only be the remnants of buildings. A deep layer of undisturbed dirt and dust lay over everything like a shroud. It was an awesome glimpse of history and one she normally would have reveled in discovering. None of that held her attention, however. Her heart pounded in her chest.

"Karigan," she breathed. The Green Rider, her sister-at-arms, was in Blackveil. She couldn't be here. Yet, here she was - dirty, bleeding, so close to dying that only the equally battered Eletian at her side held her upright. The pair stumbled heavily into a broken wall, eliciting a gasp of pain from both of them. The sound galvanized Brienne and she sheathed her sword with a rare force as she rushed forward.

The Eletian pulled Karigan gently to one side as he shifted so his body mostly obscured hers from sight. Somehow, in a move so fast she didn't catch it, he was holding a long knife. She paused, holding her hands up to show she held no weapons. It was said the Eletians knew of the Order of the Black Shields and respected them.

"I am Sergeant Quinn of the Black Shields," she said calmly. "I mean you no harm. I only want to help Rider Sir G'ladheon. And you as well, if you are a friend."

"I know of the Black Shields. We are in Sacor City, then," the Eletian responded. It was not a question.

"You are under it. Will you let me help you?" She started forward again before he responded. She was barely in time to help support him before he fell. Wrapping her free arm around his waist, she helped ease him to a sitting position, wincing as Karigan collapsed next to him. Of the two, the Rider was clearly the more seriously injured.

"Karigan," she whispered again, tears in her eyes. Blinking them back, she started to examine her friend. The Rider was lost in the pain of her wounds and gazed past her with a glazed expression. It was obvious that the woman was conscious in name only; she had no idea of where she was or what she was doing. Dirt and cobwebs covered her face and shoulders and she might as well have bathed in a pool of blood. Brienne had no idea how the woman was still conscious. She had seen soldiers die from less. Resolutely pushing that thought away, she started to catalog the Rider's wounds. A crushed wrist, deep puncture wounds all over her right leg. Gashes over regular intervals across her entire body. A deep head cut. Scraped knuckles and knees. Bruises everywhere.

Brienne unwound the sash around her waist and used pieces of it to wrap the wounds still oozing blood. Then she turned her attention to the Eletian. He sat quietly, although it was clear he was in some pain as well. He also had gashes across his body, some of which still oozed slowly. She used the rest of her sash to bind the worst of his wounds, which he permitted.

"What is your name?" she asked.

He frowned at her slightly, as if pulled away from a deep thought. "I am Lhean," he said.

"And you were part of the Blackveil expedition?"

"Yes," he acknowledged.

"Did anyone else survive?"

"I believe so."

Brienne gritted her a teeth a little at the uninformative answers. _He's in pain_, she reminded herself firmly. _He wasn't even sure where he was. The rest can wait until I get them to Menders'._ She bit back a sigh and got to her feet. "Come on," she said, helping him to stand and then moving to support Karigan. "There are others coming behind me, but we might as well get as close to them as possible and save some time."

_Hold on, sister_, she thought as she and the Eletian helped Karigan stumble toward the rock fall one slow and painful step at a time. _Hold on. You are more important than you know_.

Long before they reached the narrow opening leading to the tombs, Karigan finally collapsed completely. The sudden dead weight pulled both Brienne and Lhean to their knees next to her, panting from the effort to support her. Brienne shrugged off her thick cloak and laid it over Karigan. The Rider still breathed, thank the Gods. The Eletian closed his eyes and brushed Karigan's bloody hair away from her eyes.

"I cannot support her any longer, Black Shield," he admitted. His face, beautiful even through the blood and bruises, twisted briefly as if in pain at the admission. "I have no more strength in me."

Brienne reached across Karigan and touched the back of his hand lightly. "I cannot even believe you have done this much," she said. "Rest here. As I said, there are others following me. There will be help and mending for you soon. Stay with Karigan and I will go now to show them the way."

"There is no need." Lhean smiled ever so slightly. "They have found us."

Sure enough, there seemed no end to the cascade of black-clad Weapons suddenly pouring through the narrow hall into the cavern. Each carried an actual lantern with a heavy base and a drawn sword. Most fanned out past the collapsed trio without a word or greeting in order to guard their backs. The rest sheathed their swords with perfect harmony. Fastion fell to his knees next to Brienne and shrugged at her raised eyebrow.

"Well, what did you think would happen after raising an alert like that?" he asked. As always, his face was perfectly serious and expressionless, but the exceptionally deadpan expression was in and of itself an admission of some amusement. "Agemon took your request quite seriously, you know. He is convinced that there is an army of Mornhavon the Black's descendents approaching the tombs to loot themselves silly. I am equally certain there is an army of Shields around the throne room at the moment."

Brienne couldn't quite repress her snort of amusement at the imagery. "I don't blame him," she said, struggling to control herself. "It was quite a disturbance from the other side of the passage. But oh, little brother..." her voice trailed off as they gazed on their sister-at-arms and her injuries. "She doesn't even know me," she whispered. She took some comfort from Fastion's broad shoulder brushing against hers in support.

"She is severely injured," Fastion admitted in a low voice. "You did well to re-bandage these wounds, Brienne." The younger man was the closest to a mender Weapon that there was and treated the Weapons' minor injuries far more frequently than a genuine mender. His words gave her even more comfort and she managed to shrug off her melancholy. She had done as much as she could, when she could. Regardless of what happened from here, she would find some peace in that.

"Eletian, are you a mender? A healer?" Fastion asked.

"His name is Lhean," Brienne said softly.

Lhaen looked up at his name and the glaze in his eyes cleared a little as he attempted to focus. "No," he said, "no, but Hana.." he trailed off and his face crumpled a little bit more. "One of our companions was a gifted healer," he finished.

Fastion graced his obvious grief by ignoring it completely. "I am sorry for your loss, Lhaen. We owe you more than we can ever repay," he continued. "No matter where you go or what you do, remember that the Black Shields owe you a blood debt." A low murmur of agreement came from the watching Weapons.

"In blood life begins and in blood life ends," Fastion said.

"In blood we honor our way," Brienne finished with the others. The ancient ritual fell easily from her lips, as it never had during her training. The violent words seemed perfectly suited to the situation.

It was clear that even half-unconscious from pain, Lhean understood the significance of their words. "You honor me," he whispered. Those were the last words he spoke then as he finally succumbed to pain and exhaustion.

Fastion helped Brienne to her feet and gently picked up Karigan. Theilan hefted the Eletian over his shoulder and they started to make their way back to the castle proper with their fallen. Several of the stronger Weapons shared the burden of the Eletian between them, but no matter how much his arms trembled from the strain, Fastion cradled Karigan in his own arms until they reached the Menders' Wing.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I had a hard time with this chapter, so I hope it is not too tedious. Please let me know. Also, I realize that I had spelled a couple of names consistently wrong in the first two chapters, so I went back and updated them. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have the others!

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><p>Lynx slowly drifted into consciousness. The cool breeze that once leavened the hot afternoon became intermittent, then died completely into heavy, still air. The sun itself seemed to fade in and out of brightness. Most importantly, the carter's loud monotone slowly became incomprehensible as it was drowned out in a sea of background noise. That, more than anything, was what must have roused him from the first decent sleep he'd had in almost a month.<p>

He propped himself up on one elbow and peered blearily around him. Sure enough, they were deep into the heart of Sacor City. It was the buildings that blocked the wind and sun. The crowds – the source of the constant sound - pressed close around the small cart as they went about their midday business. For the most part they ignored them, but every once in a while a startled shopkeeper or housewife would focus on his battered features and torn clothing and recoil in affronted surprise. He lay back down wearily. As big as the cart was, it would take them some time to wind through the crowd to the hill on which the castle rested.

_Home_. The thought was rich with content and happiness. For all that he loved the wilderness and shied away from human contact, Lynx had slowly come to realize during the journey through Blackveil Forest that he considered the castle grounds his true home. It was there that the gawky, shy boy learned how to ride and carry out his messenger duties. It was there that the young man had fallen in love with and later lost his heart's companion. And it was there that he sometimes taught his childhood skills of wilderness survival and dead reckoning to the newer Green Riders so that they might know how to reach home through any mission, no matter the danger around them. Even if he did not know each and every face by name because he was so seldom present, Lynx knew that the presence of the other Green Riders meant home.

His heart constricted at the sudden reminder of his lost companions.

_Yates_. Before this mission, Lynx knew him because the man refused to take his survival courses seriously. He was not as bad as Tegan was later, but at the time, Lynx thought he had encountered the worst student possible. No matter what happened, Yates would laugh. No matter what hardship accrued from his refusal to pay attention, Yates would smile and shrug it off. _I thought you didn't care,_ he thought mournfully. _I thought that you didn't pay attention to anything or anyone unless it amused you_.

He remembered the time he had thrown his hands up and stomped off into a seasonal monsoon. Lynx could not take it anymore. _"Go ahead and laugh, Yates!"_ he remembered hissing. _"I'm trying to teach you how to stay alive, but go ahead and laugh while the summer sun bakes you and the winter rains freeze you and the animals come to eat what's left of you."_ When he had returned an hour later, dripping wet and no calmer, he had walked into a perfect camp and a warm blanket waiting for him. Neither ever said another word about it, but Yates had passed the course with flying colors and Lynx had slowly come to realize that the other Rider laughed because it was the only way he knew how to deal with things.

Thinking of Yates made him close his eyes for a moment. "I'll smile for you, Yates," he whispered. "No matter what the weather is like. I will remember you at our gathering. And I will find Karigan, or what happened to her."

_Karigan_. Thinking of Karigan was even worse than thinking of Yates because if the dead Green Rider would want anyone to come out of this mess whole, it was Karigan. In her own quiet, stubborn way, the woman was as much of an enigma to Lynx as Yates had been. Without a doubt, she was the best Green Rider anybody had trained in decades. Karigan was careful and remembered everything. She was patient when she had to be, despite her natural temper. She was brilliant with the sword. She had also fought the Riders' Call tooth and nail and for far longer than anyone else in living memory. She still fought it, although she claimed loudly she accepted it.

A wry smile spread across Lynx's face. Whoever fell in love with that woman had their hands full and no doubt about that. Still smiling, he chuckled to himself in wonder over the secret he had learned in Blackveil. _Poor Yates_, he thought. _He always knew he didn't have a chance, but who would have thought that the king had first pick_? He felt sorry for his fellow Rider. There was no chance of that relationship working out, no matter who felt what; not with Zachary and Estora's wedding plans moving along so quickly and all of the Lord Governors in favor of the union.

_Poor Karigan_, he thought this time. Lynx had overheard her whispered conversation with Yates. He pitied her. _Is it better to love and lose, or love and never realize_? He would always grieve over his lost Coleya, but at least he had the memory of her returned love to bolster him. No matter what King Zachary might say to his Rider, there would never be that for Karigan.

These musings kept him occupied during their slow meandering through the city until the cart came to a halt well before the castle walls. He glanced at the carter, surprised that the man would stop here. The man looked embarrassed.

"Pardon, Green Rider," he said. "Pardon. I can't go any further. The guards don't take kindly to anyone coming too close to the walls after the king was so badly hurt." Lynx didn't say anything, shocked, and the man rushed on. "I have a wife and child to think about. I'm sorry. They took old Cottrell away and no one has seen him since. I'm -"

Lynx cut him off before he could apologize again. "King Zachary, hurt? What happened?" It was the man's turn to stare at him and Lynx calmed his voice. "I've been absent on a mission and had not heard anything more than vague rumors. Please tell me what you know." The story shocked him. It was not so much the danger to the king – that was always going to be present to some degree or the other, no matter how beloved – as the response to it. Without strict business to attend, no one was allowed on castle grounds for any reason. Some civilians had indeed been taken away after a swarm of well-wishers had ascended the hill to ask after King Zachary and Queen Estora.

He shook his head. Sacoridia had collectively gone mad at the worst possible time. What was King Zachary thinking? With the carter's help, he levered himself to his feet and slung his worn bag across his shoulders. He took the man's hand in a firm grip. "I thank you for your help. I will remember it." The last few coins he had slid from his grip to the man's.

Ignoring his stumbled thanks, Lynx started to slowly hike up the hill toward the castle gates. By the time he reached them, he was stumbling in pain and exhaustion. The gates, always watched, were now actively barred and twice the normal guard complement stood at attention. Still more regularly patrolled the area. Lynx shook his head. _I don't like this at all_.

Two of the soldiers walked out to meet him, barring his way with their pikes. "What business do you have here?"

"I am Lynx, a Green Rider returning from a mission. I have a message for the king."

The soldier snorted. "Don't look like a Greenie. Where's the horse?"

Lynx gritted his teeth. "Not with me, obviously. Look, if -"

"Then how do we know you are who you say you are, Greenie?" he grinned obnoxiously.

"If you just send for Captain Mapstone, she will vouch for my presence," he tried again.

The man examined his nails for a second. "The Captain is a busy woman. I think that you -"

"Lynx! Is that you?" the shout was incredulous. Mara pushed bodily past the guards to support his listing frame, her hair blazing in the sunlight. "Are you okay? Where is Owl? Where are the others?" He felt more than saw her shake herself to a halt. "Never mind. Let's get you up to the menders."

After a few growled threats from her about having them on latrine duty for the rest of the careers, the soldiers grudgingly let them pass. Once they were well out of ear shot of anyone else, Lynx tugged Mara toward the main entrance leading directly to the throne room. This time of day, the king was almost certainly holding audience and it would be the best place to present his report. "I hear the story told to me in the city was not exaggerated by much," he said laconically.

Mara shook her head. "Even less than you know," she replied. "There haven't been any riots down in the city yet, but the atmosphere is tense enough for one. I keep meaning to talk to the Captain about it, but there never seems to be any time." She heaved a tired sigh.

He glanced over at the Chief Rider out of the corner of his eye. She did look worn down and exhausted, as if she were burdened with concerns not her own. He thought about saying something, but long habit held his tongue. If she wanted to say anything to him about it, she would. Still, maybe a gesture would do no harm. She had been on her own too much since the old Barracks had burned down. "If you need anything, come find me," he said simply.

She flashed him a grin. "That won't be difficult for a little while anyway," she teased. "In your condition you won't be leaving menders' wing for at least a week. Speaking of, why are we going this way?" She tried to pull him back around the side of the main wing.

He frowned at her. "Not until I report, Mara. This can't wait."

Her shoulders slumped but she stopped trying to steer him toward the menders' wing. "I know I shouldn't ask, but did anyone else make it out?"

"None of our soldiers or the forester made it out," he couldn't help the grim sense of satisfaction that colored his voice as he remembered the times the slime had tried to kill Karigan behind everybody's back. Mara glanced over in surprise, but didn't say anything. "Three of the Eletians did not survive for sure." His throat closed. "Yates didn't make it," he choked out past his grief. "We don't know what happened to Karigan and Lhean, but the two Eletians went back to Elt Wood to make their own report after we buried Yates. I came straight to Sacor City as quickly as I could."

The other Rider bowed her head momentarily, eyes filling with tears. "Thanks for letting me know," she whispered. "The Captain will want to start arranging something."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Mara's glare silencing anyone that tried to stop them. The rich wooden paneling and thick tapestries that surrounded them in the palace seemed surreal to Lynx. The luxury was so far removed from the horrors of Blackveil Forest. He wiped his eyes wearily. He was so tired, but he was afraid to sleep. He know the nightmares brought on by that evil place would never leave him entirely. Every time he had tried to sleep on his journey here, he was haunted by the dark voices of the twisted creatures that inhabited the cursed forest.

"Lynx," he heard Mara say, but the rest faded away into a gray blur. When he blinked the haze away from his eyes, he found himself slumped on Mara in the middle of the hallway just in front of the throne room doors. The woman tried unsuccessfully to push him off of her.

"Sorry, Mara," he muttered.

"Get off of me," she hissed. "You need to be in Menders'!"

He groaned. That actually sounded good. "I need to report," he said.

Two shadows coalesced from out of nowhere he could see, solidifying into two of the Black-clad Weapons that shadowed the king everywhere. Lynx knew next to nothing about them, except that they were very single-minded in their purpose and very insular. Only Karigan seemed to be able to tell any of them apart.

One of them reached down and hauled Lynx to his feet with one hand and Mara to hers with the other. "A little help, Rider Brennyn?" The tone was perfectly mild so Lynx had to be imagining the glint in his eyes, right? That glint – or whatever it was – disappeared entirely as the Weapon turned his full attention on the battered Rider.

"Thanks, Donal," Mara said, a hint of chagrin in her voice. So Karigan wasn't the only one who knew some of the Weapons, Lynx thought in amusement. "This is Rider Lynx."

"From the Blackveil expedition," Donal said. "Wait here and I'll inform the king." He melted back into an alcove Lynx swore wasn't there a second ago.

"He sure doesn't waste any time," he said.

Mara snorted and absently reached up to rub one of her scars. "The Weapons never do, once they set their minds to something. You've heard the Captain talk about them before, right? It's even funnier when Mel is home and running around mimicking her...right in front of one of them."

They sat quietly for a few minutes on the bench as people started to stream out of the throne room and then stood and made their way inside when Donal reappeared to beckon them forward. Lynx wearily paced up the runner toward the thrones where both Zachary and Estora were sitting. He was not shocked at the sight of her crown since the carter had told them of the sudden marriage, but it would still take a little while to get used to. He made an awkward bow which would have overbalanced him if Mara hadn't been at his side. King Zachary quickly stood and waved off any further formalities.

"Come sit down, Rider Lynx," he said gently, concern visible in his face. There was a chair in front of the dais, which the Green Rider sank into with some relief. "Tell me everything," the king said simply, propping his chin on his hand.

Lynx started at the beginning. He described the Eletian contingent and their attitudes. "From the very beginning, they ignored us and would only speak to Karigan when possible," he grinned. "Lieutenant Grant didn't like that very much, of course, so the journey was fairly eventful from the start. They did, by the way, appreciate your gift of chocolate. It came in handy later."

He described the oppressive atmosphere, the deadly lifeforms, the difficulty of making camp each night. He glossed over most of the journey itself, knowing that the king and his advisers would want to hear every detail many times in the next week. He talked about the reactions of the Eletians. "They were almost grief-stricken every time we approached a recognizable landmark or road sign. The youngest, Lhean, became more and more quiet as we traveled deeper into the forest." He explained the ancient road organization.

His voice was growing hoarser, and he was thankful that the first few times someone had started to ask a question, the king had brusquely waved them into silence. After the description of the blood-sucking hummingbirds, few seemed able to voice any questions. Lynx could almost see jaws incrementally falling open with each wild twist of his report.

"The deeper we penetrated into the peninsula, the more pockets of wild magic we ran into. The Eletians seemed to have some sense of them on the edges, but within the interior they had no more notice than we did. The influx of wild magic had the same effects on us Riders as before." Zachary's face turned grim, but Estora looked only confused. Captain Mapstone had arrived shortly after Lynx had started and leaned forward at this point.

"So your abilities were completely unpredictable," she clarified for the Queen.

"Yes, Captain."

"What a nightmare," she murmured as he continued his report. The king looked more grim with every new detail. Was that grief in his eyes? Lynx knew that he had no hope of accurately reading anything King Zachary wanted to hide from him. He wasn't good enough with people and the king was only too good at concealing himself.

Like with the rest of the journey, Lynx highlighted only portions of the trip through Castle Argenthyne and Karigan's role in helping the Eletians save their Sleepers. He did not spend that much more time on Mornhavon's return and possession of Yates, but that was mostly because he still didn't understand everything that happened.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "We were all standing there in a stalemate, with that thing staring through Yates' eyes and pressuring Karigan to give him the mask. The Eletians just seemed to fade into the background, although it was clear they would kill Karigan if she made the wrong choice. It was all so strange. Then Karigan flung the mask down, breaking it and spraying us all with these sharp, glass-like shards of it. The universe shattered apart all around us as the mask shattered at our feet and then there was this sensation..." He shook his head and wrapped up his report. He described finding himself on the Wanda Plains with Telagioth, Ealdaen, and a dying Yates and eventually parting from the Eletians to make his way home. He handed his battered messenger bag to the Captain. "That contains Yates' journal and maps. Karigan kept it up after he couldn't see."

One could hear a pin drop in the silent throne room. The grim and otherwise undefinable expression on the king's face remained in place. He gazed at the Rider thoughtfully, clearly lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he shook himself slightly and sat up straight. "So Rider Sir G'ladheon and the Eletian Lhean are the only members of the expedition that are unaccounted for so far. Mornhavon has returned but is injured and he is gathering an army of groundmites led by a necromancer. Most of the Eletian Sleepers have been led to safety beyond his evil grasp."

Lynx only nodded. He was so tired.

"Very well, Rider," Zachary stood abruptly, reaching for the battered journal in Captain Mapstone's hands. "You are injured and exhausted. Please forgive me – us," he corrected, after a glance at Estora, "for keeping you up so long. We will speak more in a day or so, once I have a chance to read over Yates' journal." The king's hands clutched the worn leather of the binding as he turned away to stalk out of the throne room.

Lynx heaved a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe now he could finally get a good night's sleep. The quiet thoughts of the horses in the pasture had acted a minor balm for his battered thoughts throughout his report, gently easing away the worst of the lingering malaise left from the twisted creatures in Blackveil.

"Your Majesties!" A Weapon raced up the runner. She must have made some signal since none of the other Weapons in the room acted concerned or even drew a blade. "Sergeant Quinn has found Karigan and an Eletian in the catacombs beneath the tombs! They are alive!"

Lynx stared at her in disbelief, throat closing in happiness. Mara clutched his arm, a tear running down her cheek and a smile on her face. The uproar of commotion from the others in the room and the sight of the king rushing past him was the last thing he remembered before somehow finding his way to his room and falling across the bed. He was asleep as soon as he sank down onto the mattress. Mara chuckled and removed his boots before closing the door behind her as she left.

Tonight, at least, all was well with the world.


	4. Chapter 4

The lamplight flared and flickered sharply despite the lack of moving air. It was a sure sign that the oil was almost utterly consumed. _Consumed like my energy_, the bearded man regarding it thought pensively. _Consumed like my hope_. He slumped in his chair and stared into the dying flame until it faded away into darkness. Only the fire burning across the room lit the comfortable study. Its light cast the man's face into shadows, somehow emphasizing the sense of grief and despair radiating from him.

After an interminable amount of time passed, King Zachary finally hauled himself to his feet and replenished the oil in the desk lamp himself. He did not feel like an interruption in his brooding even for one of his many unobtrusive servants. He re-lit it with a coal from the fireplace after trimming the wick. The crystal base sent shards of brilliant light flashing across the polished surface of the desk. Now bright and steady, it illuminated the worn leather journal laying open. Rider Yates' clear hand delineated the horrors and terrors of the expedition's journey into Blackveil Forest.

Here – a map and measurements of the Avenue of Light and visible landmarks . There – vivid descriptions of the twisted territory surrounding the travelers and their dangers. A perfect drawing of a hummingbird in mid-flight occupied the corner of one page. It seemed perfectly normal until one read the passage describing it and then noticed what could only be blood dripping from its' beak. Although he had read the entries twice over now, Zachary slowly leafed through the journal yet again. Dirt and blood and minor tears marred more than one page; a testament to their struggle through the hostile forest. It was obvious when Yates lost his vision. His precise entries were replaced by Karigan's scrawling ones. Her hand was neat enough until it came to maps and drawings. Somehow they managed to elongate or compress themselves in weird places. It was clear that art was not the strong point of Rider Sir G'ladheon, although her notations were clear and seemed precise.

His lips quirked up in the slightest smile. The king's fingers turned over another page and hesitated. The left hand side was a series of thumbnail sketches of everyone in the Blackveil expedition. In one corner, Graelalea held a long feather. Just under her was a beautiful, delicate Eletian face. The label under it read "Hana" and behind her was the vague impression of a plant. Another corner held a desperate looking Lieutenant Grant holding his arm. There was just the hint of writhing motion underneath the edge of an unraveling bandage.

The entire right side of the page was covered in a sketch of Karigan. She was sitting by the fire, cradling her broken wrist. Somehow Yates had captured her tendency to brood over others; Zachary could almost feel the responsibility that she had surely tried to shoulder for the well being of the others.

In the picture, she looked weary and dirty. It was no match for the reality, but even so, she was beautiful to him.

Zachary let his fingers trace lightly over the lines of her face as he finally let himself acknowledge that his Karigan may not survive the night. Silent tears trailed down his cheeks. He had known even at the time that Sherren had brought the news that Karigan lived that he should not rush to check on her, but he could not help himself. He had left behind his queen – and oh, that fact hurt to admit, even to himself – his advisers and even his Weapons in his hurry. He did not think he would ever forget the sight of Fastion laying her bloody and battered form into a bed in Menders' Wing. Twyla, the acting head Mender in the face of Destarion's demotion, made no attempt to hide the severity of Karigan's injuries. The mender had turned white as snow upon seeing that the Rider still breathed and promptly kicked everyone out with heartfelt oaths. Only Fastion was allowed to stay to help triage and clean the wounds.

Now it was almost dawn and he still refused to seek the bed holding his sleeping queen. He could not bear the thought of laying down next to Estora when Karigan was lying near death in the next wing over. Sleep would be no refuge for his desperate thoughts.

_Karigan, I have failed us_, he wailed inside as bittersweet memories played through his mind. She stood tall and proud as she accused him of ignoring the needs of his people upon their first private meeting. The resigned look on her face as she confronted Shawdell and Amilton...the pride as she offered herself to the Riders and his service...grief as he comforted her after the barracks burned down. The intelligence in her eyes as she stood in Captain Mapstone's stead during that formidable woman's breakdown and the longing and hurt pride warring in her expression as she handed his gifts back to him on top of the battlement. Zachary felt that every single word they had ever exchanged was engraved in his very being and each memory somehow became even more precious as he finally acknowledged that she was beyond him now that he was married.

One of his beloved terriers sensed his mood and wrapped herself around his ankle. _I am here_, her big brown eyes seemed to say. Her white tail gave a slow wag. _I am here and I love you. I will love you forever._ The film of tears in his eyes blurred everything and he sank to the floor to cradle the dog in his arms.

_Karigan, I will love you forever_. He sobbed silently, shoulders heaving, holding the little dog close to him and petting her as she frantically licked his face and hands.

The sky in the east had just barely started to lighten when there was a light tap on the door.

"Come," Zachary forced out. He was sure he looked awful, but at least the tears were dry. To his surprise, it was Fastion that came in and bowed. The king frowned a bit as he studied his Weapon. The man was as expressionless as ever, but weariness clung to him in the slightest slump of his shoulders and the pinched corners of his eyes. Zachary's heart clenched. "Karigan?" he whispered.

"Sire," Fastion said, "Rider Sir G'ladheon still lives and is showing signs of waking. You asked to be notified immediately."

"How is she?"

The Weapon hesitated just slightly. "She is in a lot of pain," he finally said.

Zachary wasted no time in getting to Menders', although this time he was careful to appear unhurried. It was difficult to walk with a calm sense of purpose. He had no difficultly reading between Fastion's words. There was no guarantee that Karigan would heal; in fact, given the sheer number of wounds detailed in the journal even before she shattered the looking mask, the odds were against it.

Once he got there, the king moved to stand beside her bed. "Leave me," he commanded. He had eyes only for the woman lying so still in the bed. He leaned against the door in shock. Karigan looked almost as bad as she had when Fastion carried her in. Dirt and blood clung to the strands of hair lying limply on the pillow. Her torn clothes were gone, replaced by bandages, but the exposed skin still showed faint streaks of muck. Swallowing, he moved to her side and laid his hand gently on her cheek. He started to stroke her face softly, hardly even realizing what he was doing.

"Karigan."

The Rider stirred, moaning softly. Her blue eyes seemed just a little bit darker than normal, holding a depth that spoke of mysteries that no mortal being should ever be a part of. There was death in those eyes. His hand stilled on her face and he found himself leaning in toward her helplessly.

"Karigan," he said again, frantically. "Karigan, don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere," she murmured. Her dark eyelashes drifted down to rest against her bloodless cheek then raised up again. This time, her eyes were clear and focused on him. "Zachary," she said. Her voice held just a hint of wonder. "Am I alive? Is this a dream?"

A smile crossed his face. "You're alive," he whispered. He caressed her face again. "You came back to me."

She started to reach for his hand but her face contorted in agony for a split second before she subsided. "I feel too rotten to be dead," she said wryly. Her lips turned up in a half-hearted grin. That, too, crumbled a second later and she struggled to sit up, this time ignoring the pain shooting through her body.

"Where's Lhean?" she gasped.

Zachary pushed her down firmly. "He'll be fine," he said soothingly. "He's in the next room."

"And Yates? What about Yates? Mornhavon had him!"

He brushed her hair away from her forehead and stroked her cheek again. She read the truth in his eyes even before he said anything and he watched despair wash over her features.

"My fault," she choked out. "It's all my fault." She closed her eyes again and turned her face away from her king. A single tear welled up in the corner of one eye.

His throat closed. "No, beloved." He couldn't seem to speak above a whisper. "No, it's not your fault. He told Lynx that before he died. He did not want you to blame yourself."

"I think I will always blame myself. What happened to the others? Do you know?" Her voice sounded small and miserable.

He gave her the bare bones of the information she wanted. When she still refused to look at him, he cradled her face in both of his hands and forced her to turn toward him. "Karigan, you did everything at my command. If anyone at all is to blame for anything that happened in Blackveil it is me."

"You weren't there! You didn't make the decisions. You didn't act upon what you saw."

"None of you would have been there at all if it were not for my determination to find out what the Eletians were up to," he said bitterly. "I cannot truly regret that since knowing anything about Mornhavon's activities is better than being utterly unprepared, but I will feel responsible for the results for the rest of my life."

There was nothing she could say to that and she didn't try. The silence between them was comfortable.

Zachary couldn't seem to make himself stop stroking her face. Underneath the lingering grit, the skin was soft to his callused fingers. Touching her seemed to help soothe his wounded soul. It felt so right, as if everything that he would ever need in his life was right there with him.

"I woke up in a tomb," Karigan said suddenly. "The lid was closed and I couldn't get out. At the very end, when I had no air and I knew I was going to die, all I could think about was you and how much I wanted to tell you that you were – are – everything to me."

His fingers tightened on her jaw, but she didn't seem to notice. Her beautiful blue eyes held his without wavering. They were full of an emotion that Zachary had never truly dared to hope for from her.

"I didn't want to die without telling you that I love you."

His heart stopped. For one instant, time itself seemed to stop. She loved him. And he was not free to love her.

"Oh, Karigan. My beloved." He leaned down to rest his forehead gently on hers. He closed his eyes for just a second in utter and complete denial of reality.

He had to tell her that he and Estora were married.

"Karigan..." his voice trailed off. He gazed into her eyes and saw that they were once again those mysterious, fathomless portals. She knew.

She reached up with her good hand to touch his wedding band.

"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I...it isn't what I wanted." He recounted the events of his injury and its consequences as quickly as he could spit out the words. He watched the tears well up slowly in his Rider's eyes without ever spilling over and damned himself in every way he could think of for causing her more misery.

Very gently, Karigan extracted herself from his grasp. "Estora will take care of you, if you let her."

The words hit him like a dagger in the heart, but he couldn't disagree. He had already seen the uncurling tendrils of devotion in her actions and he did not have the heart to crush her emotions when he could not have the one he truly desired. He shook his head anyway.

"Karigan," he whispered in desperation.

"I love you," she said as softly.

He reached down and brushed her lips with his. She ignored the salty moisture on his lips and only reached up to press her fingers against his mouth.

"Zachary," she murmured. "I am so grateful you live."

He kissed her again, desperately, and this time she kissed him back.

"I love you," he said. He stroked her cheek again and stared into her eyes for another long moment. The tears still pooled in their blue depths, but refused to spill over onto her cheeks.

"I love you, too," Karigan smiled.

After a long, silent moment that felt like goodbye, Zachary forced himself to his feet. He didn't remember leaving Karigan. He didn't remember the long walk back to his study. All he could remember later when he was staring into the fire was the hopeless anguish in her beautiful eyes and the feel of her dirty, silky skin beneath his fingers.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as King Zachary's footsteps faded from the hall, the tears that Karigan had suppressed during his visit started to leak slowly out of of her eyes. It wasn't possible to hold them back any longer. Her breath hitched and she swallowed convulsively, unwilling to let anyone hear her cry.

_It's not fair_, she sobbed silently. The fingers of her left hand clutched the soft blanket on top of her in a death grip. It really wasn't fair. She had already overcome so many obstacles and had been through so much and for what? She put herself in danger over and over again – why? To save Sacoridia? All she had done was buy some time. Mornhavon was still alive and still bent on total domination. The Eletians had made it clear that they considered her and her magic as much of a danger as a help. Even if she did figure out what she was doing, how was she supposed to defeat Mornhavon – a man with over a millennium of practical experience in dark magic?

_For what_? she begged in the privacy of her thoughts as anguish twisted her face.

To drive a wedge between herself and her clan.

To watch her friends perish or turn away from her.

For a man who claimed he loved her to marry another.

For the first time since admitting to herself that she loved Zachary, Karigan let herself truly feel it. The emotion washing over her was overwhelming. She would do anything for him as the king and even more so for the man. Only, now she could not do anything for him at all outside of her service as a Green Rider. It would be best for him if she kept her distance from him and did not distract him from his duties.

A single thought kept running through her thoughts over and over again. _What if I had told him how I felt sooner? Would things be different? _

What if, what if, what if. There would be no what ifs for her. Not now and not ever. Karigan closed her eyes and cried silently. Eventually, her body gave out on her again and as she started to fall unconscious, she welcomed the numb weightlessness that seemed to roll over her.

_She stood in the middle of Blackveil again, but this time she was all alone. She could see the corrupt, twisted trees writhe in an ancient hunger and feel the mutated life creeping up on her from all sides. Her path was clear of all obstacles. She pressed onward along the overgrown avenue, grateful that she had a reprieve from the evil all around her. At intervals she passed intersections or offshoots of the road. At each point, she glanced down the path and saw one of her erstwhile companions at its end. There was Hana, slowly pulled apart by the giant tentacles as she screamed. The next path showed her Yates, eyes full of flame as his body burned from the inside out. _

_ Slowly, the initial relief she felt at the lack of obstacles in her path transmuted into desperation. Why couldn't she help her companions? Self-loathing joined the mix of her emotions along with anger and fear. She couldn't stop though. She had to press on. She kept going, faster and faster. She had to reach the end of this torturous path soon. Surely she was close to its end now. With one last burst of speed, she broke into the open clearing at the end of the road and stopped dead in horror. _

_ King Zachary turned to face her with Queen Estora on his arm. "Ah, our last faithful subject is here. Let the celebration begin!" A sickeningly joyful melody played in the background as everyone started to waltz. She stared at the royal couple, dumbfounded. Why had she been in such a hurry to leave everyone behind for this? Maybe it wasn't too late to go back and help them. She spun around to go back the way she came from, but a strong hand gripped her arm and spun her around. The king stared down into her eyes with a stiff smile. His eyes were terrifyingly blank. "It's too late now. You can't go back." Then he spun her around as the music reached a crescendo and Blackveil started to collapse on her. _

Karigan startled awake with a pained gasp, sucking in breaths of cool air. She glanced around, noting the solid stone walls of Menders with a shaky sigh of relief. It was just a horrible dream. She was not in Blackveil anymore. She really was home in the castle. She sighed and lay back down. She realized hazily that she was still trembling a little bit with the aftermath of emotions caused by the dream, but she refused to think about her lost companions yet. She wrapped herself tightly in her blanket and fell back into uneasy slumber.

_Golden sun poured over the castle, bathing everything in a warm light. Even the wind seemed gentle, only lazily playing tag with the pennants that normally snapped with ferocious energy in the gale buffeting the towers. The fields and orchards in the distance were burgeoning with new life. She leaned contentedly against the crenelations, smiling in the vivid joy that seemed to suffuse her all the time now. A brilliant light flashed across her eyes, momentarily blinding her, and she ducked away laughing. She already knew what she would see, but she shielded her eyes against the glare to see Zachary coming toward her. With every step he angled something he was holding in his hands to flash sunlight across her features. _

_ "Stop that!" she protested, still laughing. _

_ With a final defiant flash and an equally brilliant grin across his handsome features, he presented her the object with a flourish. She caught her breath despite herself, anticipation and joy warring within her. She reached out to grasp the handle of the silver-backed mirror he had commissioned for her years ago. _

_ "Zachary," she breathed. It was obviously well-cared for; even after several years it was bright and untarnished. She could not seem to make her mouth form any other words, but she looked up at him hoping to make everything she was feeling clear to him. He seemed to understand her as he reached over to curl his fingers around hers. His own grin deepened to something softer and more passionate and he bent down to kiss her gently._

_ "I kept this for you," he said. "Every day that you were away from me, I kept this set safe for you. I knew that you would come for it one day."_

_ She arched an eyebrow, not quite willing to let her playful mood go just yet. "And if now is not the time?" She softened the words with a smirk and a toss of her long braid even as she cradled the mirror against her chest._

_ Zachary noticed her possessive grip and simply smirked in return. "It's too late now. You can't go back." He stroked her face with both of his hands and leaned down to kiss her. This time, there was nothing gentle about his kiss and it seemed to go on and on as the sun burned the world around them in the heat of their joy._

This time when she jerked awake, Karigan did not bother to open her eyes to make sure she was still in the castle. The cold stone walls held nothing of the warmth in her dream and the woolen blanket, soft as it was, could not compare to the comfort of his arms around her. She stroked the blanket convulsively with her good hand, trying desperately not to cry again. _I am so tired of crying_. Even the thought seemed tired.

A light scrape against stone caught her attention enough for her to open her eyes warily. Before she had time to worry about what it was, a shadow slowly took shape near the door. In another second, her eyes focused enough to recognize the form as a Weapon. It was Brienne to be precise.

"You startled me," Karigan said, a little bit at a loss for words. Almost immediately, she felt herself flushing. It sounded stupid to her ears; she knew that if Brienne had not wanted to announce her presence, she would have stayed hidden and the Rider would have never know she was there.

The Weapon did her the grace of ignoring her embarrassment. They always did, but it never failed to make Karigan feel welcomed and included.

"I just finished my shift and I wanted to come see how you were," Brienne said. She came close enough for Karigan to see that her hair was in a little bit of disarray and her hands were scraped up and bruised.

Flashes of memory teased at Karigan. "You were the one that found us!" she exclaimed.

"I did not think you were aware enough to know who I was." The Weapon held a glass of water for Karigan to sip from. She forced her to sip slowly despite her parched throat.

"I didn't think so either," Karigan replied ruefully. "I didn't until I saw your hands." Exhaustion was pulling at her again, but she fought it. She did not want to go back to sleep if these nightmares continued to haunt her.

"Rest, sister-at-arms. We are watching over you." Brienne faded back against the wall, but remained just in sight.

The words formed a bulwark against the pall still clouding Karigan's mind after the dreams and with a sense of relief she let herself fall back into sleep. This time, she felt nothing except an inexplicable sense of belonging and a hint of wing beats. After a time, even that faded and she settled into a deep numbness that kept everything else at bay. At long last, there was no fear and no love. There was no pain or nagging sense of duty. There was only peace in the darkness and Karigan welcomed it with everything in her.

Fastion paused just inside the door to Karigan's room in Menders, leaning his broad shoulder against the frame. The casual posture concealed the tenseness he really felt. Karigan lay silent and still on the bed in the middle of the room, only the occasional rise of her chest showing that she lived. By this time, the Weapons and Riders had taken turns helping to clean the last of Blackveil off of her. No more grime smeared her face and all of the dried blood had been washed off. Even her hair had been untangled and brushed through with clean water. It all had to be done with the least amount of jostling possible. It was a shared effort between the two groups that showed the love and respect they all held in common for the injured woman.

Captain Mapstone was leaning on the opposite wall, absently thumbing the end of her braid. She glanced up once to meet Fastion's eyes and shook her head almost imperceptibly. There was no change in her condition then. The Rider was still unconscious and had shown no signs of awakening since the night Brienne found her and the Eletian beyond the tombs.

Twyla straightened up from her examination and gently smoothed the blankets down. After a couple of minutes of busywork, the mender finally glanced at Fastion then let her eyes meet Captain Mapstone's.

"I'm afraid there is no change in her condition, Captain."

The words felt like a blow. Fastion felt the tension leave his shoulders, but only a weary resignation replaced it.

"Frankly, if she does not wake in the next day or two, she never will. We are barely keeping her hydrated and her blood loss was severe. I am surprised she has lived this long. It is a testament to her tenacity." The mender shrugged helplessly. Her face was the smooth mask of one that had battled and lost to Westrion many times, but the faint grief in her eyes was genuine. "There is not much more I can do for her if she does not wake."

The Captain had lost some of the color in her face and her hand tightened perceptibly around her braid, but she simply nodded once, curtly. "Thank you, Twyla. I know you have done all you can."

Fastion shifted to let the mender pass by him then resumed his silent post at the door. The Rider's Captain watched Karigan for a long time in silence, seeming to fight some internal war. Eventually, her shoulders slumped and she started for the door. She did not seem at all surprised when Fastion fell into step next to her.

"I sent Garth to Corsa with a letter to her father a week ago," she said. The words were so soft that he almost did not hear them at all. He glanced down at her and saw her eyes well up with tears that she held back with years of long practice.

"Rider-Mender Ben?"

Her lips tightened. She knew he was aware of the argument King Zachary and Queen Estora had over Ben using his ability to try an help Karigan. Estora still felt that Zachary was too weak for Ben to risk using his ability on someone so badly wounded. Laren understood her perspective and reluctantly sided with her queen. Zachary had been appalled and enraged that they would consider letting someone die who had done so much for their country – let alone the woman he was in love with - without even trying to help her as much as possible. It was one of the few times that Laren had ever seen Zachary actually lose his temper and its fury had silenced both of them.

"Ben was not able to do very much," she finally said after a pause to consider her words.

"I was not there for the attempt," he said.

She understood his silent request for more information and weighed it another moment before shrugging in an unconscious imitation of Twyla's helplessness. "He said that he could not feel her presence the way he could feel the King's and that there was nothing for him to hold onto." She stomped grimly down the corridor, fingering her brooch. "I do not understand his gift at all, but he spoke truth."

It was unusual for the Captain to admit that she did not understand the Riders' gifts any more than anyone else did so Fastion simply nodded his thanks.

"Lhean left today," she said suddenly as they turned a corner into the main hall. "I cannot help but feel that if even the Eletian has given up on her recovering there really is no hope."

Fastion walked next to her, trying to convey a sense of comfort with his presence. "There is always hope," he said finally. "We will continue to watch over her, Captain. Karigan is a strong woman. She will come back to us." His words were smooth and confident. _I know her will is strong enough_, he thought. _If only her body will hold out_. He touched the Captain's shoulder lightly before leaving her at the throne room doors.


	6. Chapter 6

In the last month of summer, with the heat weighing everything down in its inescapable presence, King Zachary and Queen Estora once again began to hold public audiences open to anyone who cared to listen. The Councilors argued long and hard against the move. It would be too easy for another member of the Second Empire to gain the palace grounds with murder in mind. There was a queen to worry about now as well, one who was not known for being able to defend herself. The king and queen neatly disposed of those particular arguments. Protection, after all, was the responsibility of the Weapons. All of those men and women grimly agreed that one too many things had happened on their watch recently and none were predisposed to let any other incidents mar their reputation. Both monarchs had four Weapons at all times with them even in their apartment.

Some of the other arguments against resuming the audiences were more subtle and harder to refute. To make matters worse, these arguments lent life to some of the wilder rumors flying through the castle. It was common knowledge in the queen's solar (when she was not present, of course) that all magic was based off of death magic. It was no wonder that so many Green Riders died young, with such a wicked heritage. Sir Karigan was trying to renounce their evil and was fighting for her life. The Weapons watched over her to make sure that Captain Mapstone could not sneak in and cast a spell over her to make her into a slave of the necromancer. Another rumor held that Karigan was protecting Sacor City and when she died, the groundmites would descend in force upon the city. There were even a few who – very quietly – spread the word that Estora was a Second Empire witch and had somehow ensorcelled the king to her will. Pretty soon, she would turn over the entire country to Mornhavon.

The more time went by, the more ridiculous the rumors got and nothing that anyone could say managed to curb them. Eventually, King Zachary began to ignore anything not said in his immediate presence and used the argument that resuming public audiences would be the best way to let people see the truth for themselves. Captain Mapstone added that accessibility to their leaders and open communication had always been among the strengths of the Sacoridian people and that argument helped to sway the rest in reluctant favor of the idea.

The debates were not helped by the lack of trusted advisers. King Zachary cast a jaundiced eye over any advice or argument offered even from Captain Mapstone. It would take a long time for anyone new to gain the king's trust after the betrayal of his old advisers.

The first day of the new public audiences was a strain on everybody. The people of Sacor City were hesitant to approach the castle after the previous brutal response by the soldiers. Only a mere handful of people braved the castle grounds to approach their king and queen. Zachary made a point of being open and appearing very healthy. Estora had never sat through the public audiences with the king before, so contented herself with warm smiles and encouraging nods. The few decisions they were asked to make were handled easily and fairly and seemed to be reasonably popular by the recipients. The Weapons were quite visible and made no attempts to disguise their close scrutiny of anyone present.

The second day was even harder than the first. Word had spread from the previous day's attendants that the audience was no ruse. Hordes of people swarmed the castle grounds, most of whom simply wanted to see that King Zachary lived and was well and that Queen Estora was really the queen and as beautiful as everyone claimed. Since all of these things were true, it was an easy matter to shuffle people in and out of the throne room all day long. By the time dusk fell and the great doors were firmly shut against any newcomers, everyone was exhausted from the effort of appearing healthy, happy and tireless.

Zachary just sat in his throne for a long moment, thoughts clearly somewhere else. At length, he took a deep breath and looked over at Estora. "Are you well, my lady?" he asked courteously. His queen was looking rather limp after the influx of clamoring people. This was not a bad way to be introduced to their people, all things considered. There was no real urgency behind the crowd other than to see them and that was simply done. Once Mornhavon made his move, things would become much more complicated.

Estora smiled at him. "I am fine, Zachary," she said gently. "A little bit tired, perhaps, but I will get used to it." His approving look made her feel warm and accomplished. She was used to being in court, of course, but it was a little bit different to know that people depended on her decisions as a final authority. It surprised her, how much she craved his approval. She thought about that as she let him help her up, then shrugged it aside. It was only natural. He was her husband and the king and she loved him. Of course she wanted his approval. If he approved of her, it would be easier for him to love her. She gave him a serene smile, one she reserved only for him. Surely it was just a matter of time.

The third day of audiences was the worst yet. The throne room was packed with people from the city and nearby countryside, all of them clamoring for some reassurance about the rumors flying around so profligately. Zachary smoothed his beard absently as he processed some of the newer rumors he had not heard yet. He particularly liked the one about Karigan protecting the city, although he had no idea how anyone knew she was back in the city. It was true, of course, albeit not quite the way rumor painted it. He remembered the last time the throne room had been this full of people. The wild magic from Blackveil Forest was flaring up as it traveled into Sacoridia from the breach and people were afraid of the strange events. That time, Karigan had come up with a way to get everyone's attention so that he could take command again. This time, she was lost to him and to everyone else, lying in a deep sleep that no one could wake her from.

He wanted each and every subject to feel like his or her concerns were being addressed, but unlike that last memorable audience, there were no specific problems for him to answer to. For the most part, people just wanted reassurance that their world was not falling apart around them. They had been deeply shaken at his near death and then his soldiers' refusal to let them express their concerns. Zachary was deeply moved by the genuine care for him that he felt from the crowd. He let them gather until the Weapons started to move closer and then stood. The dais ensured that everyone could see him, even at the back of the hall.

"Citizens of Sacoridia!" he announced into the abrupt silence. "It has been a difficult summer for all of us, myself included. I cannot begin to thank you enough for your prayers and well-wishes as I have recovered from my wound. The queen and I are grateful." He touched Estora's hand briefly, to remind the crowd that they did have a queen now as well as a king. "Many rumors have been going around. Some of these are patently ridiculous and have no basis in truth whatsoever. Some have some grain of truth, however, and I would like to discuss these with you. Even now, there are criers at each major square in Sacor City to tell your fellow citizens what I am telling you now."

King Zachary stood tall and proud in front of his throne, the late morning light slanting in through the slit windows just enough to highlight his amber hair. His eyes gleamed with intensity as he spoke to his people. He reminded them about the origins of the Long War and Mornhavon's eventual defeat. He mentioned the Clan Wars and how Clan Hillander's eventual ascension to the throne brought the provinces even closer together and more profitable. The revelation that Mornhavon's followers persisted in Sacoridia throughout the centuries caused a wave of consternation to travel through the crowd. It was hard for them to believe that their neighbor might be an enemy and they might never know it until it was too late.

"Now Mornhavon's evil spirit has returned to wreak more havoc on our lands and attempt to subjugate us once again. We may not have the same powers of magic that we once used to defeat him, but we still have our spirit. Our soldiers are strong and well-trained. The will and determination for freedom that once lived within First Rider Lil Ambriodhe lives still in each and every Green Rider today and they have labored tirelessly to bring information and help fix the D'Yer Wall, our primary defense. Several of them were sent to Blackveil Forest to gather information and have only recently returned with important news that Mornhavon is on the move.

We also have the same strong allies we had during the Long War. Rhovan will not fall under Mornhavon's rule without a fight and they have pledged us fighting men and supplies. The Under Kingdoms will send their warriors and scouts."

Zachary drew a deep breath and looked over the crowd below him. He tried to catch each and every eye, if only for a brief second. "Most importantly, our ancient alliance with the Eletians has been reforged. Prince Jametari has pledged his warriors and healers to our mutual cause. The Eletians still have access to the magic we have shunned and will use it to help counter Mornhavon." The low murmuring of the crowd broke out into shouts. The king patiently let it start to subside before holding up his hands for silence. "I know many of you fear magic, especially after the events of last year, but please believe me when I say we _must_ have it to stand a chance against Mornhavon. The Eletians have agreed to aid us in this, as they did a thousand years ago.

"People of Sacoridia, we are at war once again! If we do not prevail against Mornhavon and the Second Empire, everything we have built will be gone and we will be nothing but slaves. We must work together to preserve our country. Can we count on each other to do this?" The shouts from before paled in comparison to the roar that rose up and echoed in the rafters. After a few closing remarks, Zachary closed the audience and people started to shuffle out of the throne room, each one seemingly afire with determination.

"Well, that went remarkably well," said Captain Mapstone drily, folding her arms together against her chest. "I know I have been advocating that you let the people know what is going on with Mornhavon and the Second Empire, but I don't think that is quite what I had in mind." She quirked an eyebrow in Estora's direction. The queen sat stiffly and silently, the encouraging smile she had kept in place during Zachary's speech melted away entirely.

"Yes, why not warn us, Zachary?" the queen asked, her voice as stiff as her posture. _Why not warn me?_ is what Captain Mapstone heard underneath the question and winced minutely. She had hoped that the king would resign himself to his marriage quickly now that he had ratified it, but apparently that was in vain. Now she could only hope that they would address any open disagreements in private and not where someone could get information to use against them later.

Zachary was too polished a ruler not to hear the resentment simmering in Estora's voice. "Forgive me, my dear, but by the time the Eletian ambassador made his presence known, you were with your mother and younger sisters. It was the first time you had to yourself since the marriage and I did not wish to interrupt you." His gaze rested on her, sure and steady. "I did not mean to insult you."

For a moment, it was as if Laren and the other councilors were not present. Zachary and Estora looked deep into each other's eyes and at length the queen nodded minutely. "I appreciate the thought, Zachary, but perhaps for something this momentous you might let me know in the future if possible." She let a small smile ease the stiff strain of her expression. "It is difficult to sit here and be supportive when I am as surprised as the miller down the street." He touched her hand again and the queen let the matter drop.

Zachary rose and paced back and forth a little bit, one hand smoothing his beard. "The Eletians are so strange. Unlike last time, they did not just barge in. I am unsure if that is because of our increased security or because of heightened sensitivity to our ways after the last couple of encounters. Their ambassador is Telagioth. He is also accompanied by Ealdaen and Lhean – all were members of the Blackveil expedition. They have consented to stay within the castle along with their retinue." He ignored the murmur of surprise. "They also brought several healers. One of them, named Somial, wishes to examine Rider Sir G'ladheon. Something about her needing a 'true healing', he said."

Fastion shrugged. He was acting in an honorary advisory capacity when he was off-duty. "I doubt that the Eletians presented themselves in a 'normal' fashion due to security concerns," he said. "In my opinion, they could easily breach our defenses if they wished it, even if not for long."

"I concur," agreed Captain Mapstone. "I believe they are attempting a genuine alliance, based off of what I have heard so far. I would like to be included in the next meeting that includes them, Sire, so that I may verify that to the best of my ability." She fingered the golden brooch on her lapel; the meaning was lost on none present. "As for Somial, I remember him from the story Karigan told when she first arrived at the castle," a faint grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "He was the Eletian that healed her of the poisonous burns from that monstrous centipede creature. And I remember that Lynx had mentioned the necessity of a 'true healing' for her arm during his report."

"He cannot hurt her any worse than she already is," Fastion said. His face maintained its stone-like facade, but Captain Mapstone wondered at the glint in his eye, quickly suppressed.

"Perhaps we should seek the agreement of Karigan's father before we make any rash decisions on her behalf," Estora interjected coolly. "She does not belong to us, after all, no matter how much we might wish otherwise."

Zachary gave his wife a tight smile, as the others sat in shocked silence. Estora rose from her throne and descended the five steps to speak to one of the Weapons at the base of the dais. Ellen nodded and walked swiftly to the throne room doors, where a small crowd was still milling. It did not take her long to work her way through the press of people and return with a man following her. Estora returned to her throne and nodded to the man. "Clan Chief G'ladheon asked for a formal audience earlier today. I had initially declined it, but I see now the wisdom in letting him speak. If Sacoridia truly is going to war, we cannot afford to offend our wealthiest and most powerful merchants."

Captain Mapstone's heart sank as she recognized the unmistakable features of Stevic G'ladheon. _This cannot possibly end well_, she thought to herself. For just a moment, she entertained the thought of sinking underneath her seat and avoiding this encounter. But...no. If Karigan could face Blackveil, she could face the woman's father with a straight face. Karigan had volunteered, after all.

"Chief G'ladheon," she greeted, with a small nod.

The Clan Chief's eyes met hers with minimal courtesy. They were cold and hard. This was not the genial merchant she had so often exchanged pleasantries with. This was the Clan Chief of a prominent Sacoridian clan and he was not happy with what he saw.

"Rider Captain Mapstone," he greeted curtly in return. His attention quickly turned to King Zachary and Queen Estora and he made the requisite deep bow, holding it until the king motioned for him to rise to his feet.

"Your Majesties, I thank you for your time during this revealed crisis affecting our country," he said. Stevic G'ladheon might despise nobility, but no one had ever claimed he did not know the proper forms for dealing with them. Captain Mapstone was impressed despite previous evidence of such self-possession.

"What can we do for you, Clan Chief?" As always, Estora's voice was warm and kind.

"First of all, you can tell me what you have done to my daughter," he snapped, "and why she was sent to such an evil place as Blackveil Forest." He nearly quivered from the effort of keeping his words polite.

Something in his angry posture spoke to Zachary, because his stiff demeanor gradually softened until he was leaning forward and looking with compassion into the man's eyes. "Sir Rider G'ladheon had the best possible skills for completing the assignment and returning alive, Chief G'ladheon," he said calmly. "In the end, she volunteered to go, even after she was aware of the risks involved."

"Karigan is barely grown!" her father shouted. "How can she have the best skills for a dangerous mission?"

"Nonetheless, it is true. The Weapons themselves have vouched for her, as has her previous record completing difficult assignments."

"And now?" Stevic refused to back down, staring up at his king defiantly.

"Now she lays gravely injured in our Menders' Wing after providing us with information we desperately needed from Blackveil. We are uncertain exactly what has happened to her as there are some events that only she was witness to. She has not awakened to tell us of them since her initial sketchy report." Stevic's face shaded to an angry red, but the king continued without waiting for the man to speak. "She traveled to Blackveil Forest with Eletians, some of whom also survived and are here now asking permission to heal her with their magic. My queen rightfully reminded me just now that Rider Sir G'ladheon is not mine, no matter how faithfully she has served the realm. It is your place to accept or deny their offer, Chief G'ladheon." Zachary's voice broke slightly and his hand clenched tightly around the arm of his throne. Captain Mapstone wanted to comfort him, but did not dare in the middle of the confrontation.

For a long moment, Stevic continued to stare angrily at the king. Eventually, his shoulders slumped in resignation and he let go of his visible temper. "Karigan always will do whatever she wants," he murmured, not quite under his breath. "And the Menders cannot do anything?" he pleaded.

Zachary shook he head silently.

Stevic stood rigid as he took that in and then loosed a deep breath. "Very well then," the words were a whisper. "I have no love of them, but the Eletians have my permission to heal my daughter, if it can be done."

The king stood and walked down the steps of the dais to clasp the Clan Chief's shoulder firmly. He said something too low for anyone on the dais to hear and then returned to helped his wife stand. "Shall we go find the Eletians?" Stevic joined them with a heavy heart and pointedly ignored every attempt Laren Mapstone made to get his attention. _I fear he will not soon forgive me_, she thought with a heavy heart. _I'm sorry, Stevic._


	7. Chapter 7

Every Eletian that he had ever seen was possessed of an almost unearthly beauty. Without fail, they were tall, slender, and so graceful that even watching them walk was like watching the wind whisper softly across spring leaves or new snow flakes fall gently upon a meadow. Their skin was always pale, like moonlight rippling along still water. Their hair was long and fine and invariably as silver as the stars or as golden as the sun. Their eyes were more brilliant than anything found in nature. They lived forever, or so it seemed to the Clans. They were magical; they were the stuff of fairy tales.

Stevic hated them more than any living being he could think of.

Eletians had captivated his wife and his beloved Kariny had died.

Eletians had aided Karigan and his daughter was plagued with magic and danger.

Now his daughter had actually traveled with Eletians and she was lying on death's doorstep and he had been told that only their intervention would help her.

Stevic G'ladheon, first Clan Chief of his family, paced down the lavishly decorated halls with his king and queen and tried desperately to reign in his temper as he attempted to reconcile his hatred of the Eletians with their apparent necessity in saving his only child. He had often sensed they played a larger role in Karigan's stories. He was no stripling fool. He was well aware that Karigan's accounting of her activities for king and country were highly edited, but he could not blame her for not being more open. Her last visit had proven her right in that particular regard.

_I wish she had not overheard me_, he fretted one moment. In the very next moment, he silently seethed. _She should not have tried to listen in to what did not concern her_! His emotions refused to be easily contained and worry and anger shifted easily to despair. It was quite clear from the king's expression that there was a real concern that Karigan might very well die from her injuries. Stevic realized in an instant that if Karigan died, he would as well. Everything he had built out of his life, he had built first for Kariny and then for Karigan. His daughter was all he had left. He was proud of his Clan, but if he were to lose his daughter in addition to his wife, he would have nothing left to live for.

The castle wing holding ambassadors to Sacoridia was richly appointed with the finest furniture and most skillfully woven tapestries available. Everything in it practically seeped money and power. He was widely considered the wealthiest merchant in the country, if not quite the wealthiest man, but he knew that he did not have the resources to acquire even a tenth of what he saw merely walking through the halls. He was equally certain that an entire delegation of Eletians would utterly eclipse anything on display.

At length, they reached the apartment housing the Eletians and a Weapon announced their presence. They were admitted without any delay and for the first time in his life, Stevic G'ladheon looked upon the Eletians he had heard so much about.

They were indeed very beautiful. Hair of silver or gold, eyes of sapphire or emerald, pale and perfect skin – the stories were all true, in that regard. And their voices... Stevic let the music of their polite greetings wash over him and was, for a moment, lost in that perfect sound. Tears filled his eyes. A lithe shape stepped around the Eletians speaking to the king and queen and approached him. He was shorter than the others present, although of a height with Stevic. His hair was a shimmering color somewhere between gold and silver and his eyes were a pale pewter. The two stood looking at each other for a long moment and then, to Stevic's astonishment, the Eletian bowed very low.

The motion caught the attention of everyone else in the room and silence fell.

"Stevic G'ladheon," the Eletian said softly. It was not a question. Stevic raised an eyebrow in question before he could stop himself, because he knew that the physical resemblance between himself and his daughter was not very pronounced. "She has your spirit," the Eletian said simply in explanation. A gentle good humor lay beneath the words with a hint of laughter. "Your will. It is impossible to not recognize the resemblance between you for one that looks beyond the physical." A slight smile curved his lips as he expounded on his observations. "You are both stubborn and both fighters. You are loyal. I am honored to meet the father of a woman I admire so much."

Stevic felt his jaw fall open in surprise and struggled to contain it. _I hate Eletians_, he reminded himself firmly. Fortunately, the king seemed to feel the same way.

"Next to Rider Sir G'ladheon, I have had the most contact with your people since the Long War and I have yet to hear an Eletian speak so frankly." The king's voice was quite cool. "Perhaps you would care to elaborate on how you know my Rider so well."

"Peace, Firebrand." The Eletian was so serene it was impossible to tell if he had picked up on the king's tone or not. "I mean no one harm, least of all Rider Sir G'ladheon. Before she had ever set foot in Sacor City, I helped her recover from wounds dealt by Mornhavon's evil minions. I am Somial and I am one of the last of the Eletian healers. If it is in my power and if you permit it, I shall not allow her to die now."

"Why?" Stevic realized that the hoarse question had come from his own throat.

For the first time, Somial lost the serenity layered across his features and surprise flashed through his eyes. He glanced at the Eletian that Stevic perceived to be the leader and then at King Zachary and Queen Estora. Finally, the healer turned his attention back to Stevic. Pale gray eyes met the merchant's steadily. "There are three reasons that I desire to help your daughter, Clan Chief.

"First and foremost, Karigan has given a priceless gift to the Eletians by refusing to allow Mornhavon the Black access to our ancient Sleepers at considerable personal risk. It was an act of bravery and unprecedented compassion from a human. For that alone, her name will forever be remembered in the Alluvium. There is much to that tale and I do not know all of the details...nor is it my story to tell. Telagioth or Ealdaen will perhaps indulge you later, as they were witness to the deed.

"Second, I am a Healer. It is in my nature to succor the sick and aid the wounded. My gifts are such that it is impossible for me to ignore any pain I sense around me. The first time I healed Karigan, I healed her because I could not ignore her pain, although I did not utilize a true healing bond with her. Now, the pull is even stronger for having healed her once and for the extent of her current injuries.

"Third, I like Karigan. She cares deeply for those around her. She is brave and loyal, as I said, and I am _tiendan_. Her spirit and indomitable nature appeal to me. It is easy for me to want to help her."

Stevic listened intently, a little bit shocked that Karigan had made such a good impression on such an elusive people. He could detect nothing but sincerity in Somial's voice. He looked at Telagioth and Ealdaen as well, and saw nothing to contradict what he had been told. His instincts told him to accept their offer, but he had a hard time admitting that he needed their foreign magic. Finally, almost a little desperately, he glanced over at his king and queen. Estora's gaze was a little bit cold and Zachary's was a little bit hot, but both nodded ever so slightly. He refused to look at Captain Laren Mapstone.

At length, his shoulders slumped and he sighed. "You may come with me to examine my daughter," he said almost inaudibly. "You will do nothing unless I say you can."

"Agreed," Somial said instantly.

Stevic almost liked the Eletian a little bit better then, but hardened himself against the thought. "I will also have a guard for my daughter at all times while anyone but myself or a mender is present."

The pale gray eyes darkened minutely, but did not blink or turn away. "A roomful of hostile feelings will hardly help the healing process."

"You cannot truly blame us for being protective," Zachary broke in calmly. "It is reasonable that her father wants her protected and wants the final say in her care. It is our way." Somial did not turn his gaze from Stevic's.

A black shadow detached itself from the wall near the door. "We will watch over Rider Sir G'ladheon with your permission, Sire." The words jarred Stevic from his stare down with Somial. He looked at the man in surprise. This was a Black Shield, a Weapon. They were swordmasters and oath sworn to protect the Sacoridian monarchs from any possible threat. Why would they offer to protect Karigan?

The man was a little bit shorter than Stevic was, but with shoulders every bit as broad. His muscles were clearly defined even under his uniform. Each movement he made was precise, controlled, and perfectly graceful. His brown hair was cropped short in a fighting man's style and his hazel eyes had the intensity of a hawk's. Stevic knew that he would never pick a fight with a man like this, no matter how drunk or angry he was. It comforted him, a little bit, to know that someone of this nature was offering to watch over Karigan, but it brought back the question of why. He watched Zachary's face closely to see his reaction.

The king brought his hand up to smooth his amber beard, eyes distant and thoughtful. "I am not particularly opposed to the idea, Fastion," he said. "I would like to hear your reasoning, however."

The Weapon did not seemed at all phased by the king's request and stepped forward to join the group at the center of the room so that everyone could hear him. The other Weapons shifted their ranks to cover the hole left by his absence automatically. The Eletians were watching as well, but they did not appear displeased by the offer. Stevic was willing to bet that their reaction was the only reason the king was hesitating over approving Fastion's suggestion.

"First and foremost, we are pledged toward your protection, Sire," Fastion said calmly. "Where you go, we go. In normal times it is enough. I doubt that any of us would call these normal times, though. With Mornhavon the Black raising an army against Sacoridia and with the shattered protections on the D'Yer Wall allowing wild magic through its barrier, the danger to you and our queen is greater than ever. It is no longer sufficient to trail your footsteps and hope that we are fast enough to stop an attack. We cannot be everywhere, of course, but it only makes sense to me for us to prevent problems before they become dangerous. Our focus is on you. When we analyze a situation, we analyze it with an eye for danger toward you. Our alliances are shifting and changing and while our allies are trusted, they are different from us and have different priorities. You can trust a Weapon to always have you and the queen as their priority. Having us watch our allies not only lets them know that you care for their safety, it also gives you an additional warning should something happen.

"Along that line of thought, the Black Shields owe a blood debt to the Eletian Lhean for saving one of our own. We have no reason to feel hostile toward them; if anything we are grateful to them. If we guard Rider Sir G'ladheon during their attempt to heal her injuries, we will not be interfering with the process.

"Finally, the Green Riders have proven especially adept at evading and then ending the Second Empire's plans. Rider Brennyn has destroyed one of Mornhavon's revenants. Rider D'Yer may yet find a way to repair the Wall. Rider Sir G'ladheon has personally saved you and the queen more than once. They, and other brave souls like them, may do so again in the future. By protecting them, we are protecting you by extension."

King Zachary nodded thoughtfully. "Very well put, Fastion. Does this suggestion meet with your approval?" He arched an eyebrow at Somial.

"It does." The sudden smile that graced his face lit the entire room. There was nothing but joy in that expression.

"And yours, Clan Chief?"

Stevic also nodded, still feeling like he was treading water trying desperately to stay afloat. "It does, Your Majesty. I thank you for your consideration."

"Very well then. Fastion, see to it that you include this duty in your rotations." The Weapon bowed and silently left the room. Stevic blinked. He had been watching the man and almost missed the motion. How did they do it?

Still numb, Stevic trailed the group out of the room and toward Menders' Wing. Dread and hope warred in his heart and he could not make sense of anything that had happened so far. How had Karigan gotten her injuries? Why were the Eletians so intent on helping her? Why were the Weapons so intent on protecting her? Why was the king so caught up in her fate? _Do I even know my daughter at all_? He was instantly ashamed at the thought, but couldn't quite bring himself to push it away.

At a large intersection, Queen Estora stopped. "We have the council meeting soon, Zachary."

The leader of the Eletians stepped forward. "It would be best if you were present for this, Firebrand. It is important that you have faith in our alliance."

A shadow crossed the queen's features, but she quickly smoothed it away from her face. "Of course. I can take care of the council meeting, Zachary. Or I can postpone it."

Captain Mapstone grimaced. "It shouldn't be delayed any longer."

"Telagioth and Captain Mapstone are both right. You can deal with most of what comes up, my dear," Zachary said, kissing his queen lightly and said something to her too softly for Stevic to overhear. After a hasty discussion, Queen Estora and Captain Mapstone left for their meeting with several others. This effectively cut the party down to a quarter of its previous size. Only King Zachary, Stevic himself, two Eletians and four Weapons continued on to Menders'.

Once there, Stevic immediately noticed the presence of two Weapons standing to either side of the door. The king introduced him as Karigan's father and he had the sense that soon every Weapon would know exactly who he was and what he looked like. They had to grace to let him enter the room first. He took a deep breath and walked inside.

The room itself was quite small. It was all stone, with a drain in the center of the floor. A counter ran along the fall wall, with cabinets built into it underneath. The bed was in the corner of the room next to the door. It was just big enough for a single patient. Karigan lay motionless in that bed, with just a sheet to cover her.

Tears filled Stevic eyes as he caught sight of her and he rushed to the bed to lean over her. His daughter might as well have been dead. Everywhere he looked, she had a bandage on. What skin he could see on her face and shoulders was whiter than the finest porcelain china. He could only tell that she lived by the occasional faint rise and fall of her chest.

"Karigan," he said. It came out as a whispered croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Karigan," he said, a little more desperately. He picked up her undamaged hand and held it gently in both of his. There was no acknowledgment from her and for the first time, he realized that she might truly die and be lost to him forever.

A hand gripped his shoulder tightly in an attempt to lend comfort. He fought back his tears and glanced over to see who it was. "I'm sorry," King Zachary said softly, and tightened his hand briefly before letting it fall. The unmistakeable sheen of tears glinted in his eyes before he took a deep breath and resumed the slightly distant expression he had worn since Stevic agreed to see the Eletians.

He knew he should be more surprised than he was to see the king on the verge of tears, but at that moment it only seemed right that everyone should feel the same grief over Karigan's condition. At length, he gently placed his daughter's hand back on the bed and did the hardest thing he had ever done since his wife had died – he stepped away. With a single, wordless exchange he allowed Somial to take his place and take care of his daughter.

The Eletian examined Karigan normally, making note of her injuries and how bad they were. His hands brushed gently over her body and lingered over her thigh and wrist. He placed a hand on her forehead and a faint frown marred his face. At length, he turned back to the others.

"Her wounds are bad," he said gravely. "Ealdaen was not mistaken when he said that she would need a true healing to ever use her right hand again. These wounds are within my power to heal."

"But?" Stevic asked, dread clogging his throat.

Somial sighed softly. The sound was a beautiful chime in the still, cold room. "But she has gone away from her body and from her wounds. There is no guarantee that I can call her back to herself."

"I don't understand," Stevic frowned.

"Karigan is badly wounded in both mind and body. At some point, it became too much for her to deal with. Her spirit is only lightly connected to her body at this point and that connection fades further every day."

"But you can call her back?" Zachary's voice, calm and controlled, broke through Stevic's paralysis.

"I can try, Firebrand. I have the skills to do so, but there are other considerations. I may not have enough of a bond with her for her spirit to respond to my call. It is not possible to force a spirit to come back to its body against its will without the use of black magic. Should Karigan decide to truly leave this plane, I will not stop her."

"And is there danger in this?" Again, the king's voice provided an anchor for Stevic.

The Eletian nodded slowly. "There is a danger in this. I may lose myself in the calling; I may never return regardless of her decision."

"Will you try?" Stevic didn't even recognize his own voice. "Will you try to bring her back to me? I will do anything you ask, if you will but try this."

Somial's eyes were a wellspring of compassion as he gazed into Stevic's eyes. "Yes, Clan Chief. I will try. You owe me nothing. As I said earlier, she had already done more than any Eletian could ever hope to ask for. This is a small thing and a small risk in comparison."

Once again, he wondered what great service his daughter had provided to these elusive people to engender such gratitude. He closed his eyes, memories of first his beloved Kariny and then Karigan flashing in his mind. "Thank you," he said and then he opened his eyes so that Somial might realize everything he couldn't say.

Somial cupped Karigan's face in his hands. The Eletian's pale, slender fingers seemed fragile against her skin, although she was the one on the verge of death. He leaned over her so that his hair fell like a curtain around them and then he was perfectly still.

The minutes passed by slowly until they turned into hours. Behind him, King Zachary and Telagioth spoke softly, but he could not bring himself to care what they were saying. All of his attention was riveted on his daughter and the motionless veil of silver-gold hair shrouding her. He was too afraid to do anything but stand watch, as if she would die as soon as he turned his thoughts elsewhere. _I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry Karigan. Please don't leave me yet_, he begged shamelessly. _I will make everything right between us, I swear. Please come back._ He didn't notice the tears trailing down his cheeks or the tenseness of his hands clenched at his sides.

After an eternity of waiting, Somial bowed his head closer to Karigan's. "Karigan," he said, barely loud enough for the others to hear. There was no motion or sound from anyone in the room.

"Karigan," he said again. "We're all here." Again, there was no response.

"Karigan!" it was a desperate cry ripped out of his throat, almost violent coming from the Eletian.

Stevic braced himself for the worst. Aeryc and Aeryon knew that Karigan was always stubborn. If she decided she was tired of this life, it wasn't right for the Eletian to pay the price for it. "Somial," he said hoarsely.

His voice was utterly lost under the Eletian's triumphant laugh. "Karigan!"

"Somial." The woman's voice was cracked and as hoarse as her father's, but it caught the attention of everyone in the room anyway. "Somial. I'm alive." Her good hand reached up to curl around one of the hands holding her face and the Eletian straightened so everyone could see her.

"You're alive," he agreed, still holding her. The smile in his voice was obvious.

Stevic approached to lay his hand on her forehead. "You're alive," he repeated after them.

"Dad," she whispered. Confusion and grief filled her eyes. "I thought I would never see you again."

"I'm here," he said softly. "I'm here. I'm so sorry, Karigan, for everything." The tears fell openly from both of their eyes. Somial watched, his wise eyes gleaming with delight.

_Maybe the Eletians aren't so bad_, Stevic thought, before he pushed everything else aside concentrate on the most important thing in his life. _You would be proud of us, Kariny._


	8. Chapter 8

She drifted. Everything around her was white. There were no boundaries or landmarks. There was no direction. Most importantly, there was no emotion. No hurt, no sorrow, no guilt or grief. In other circumstances she might have called it peaceful, but she could not feel peace any more than she could feel pain. She just existed and she was content with that. For a little while, she had a sense of something weighing her down or holding her back. She was not sure what it was, but it was easy to ignore. Eventually, the feeling became more and more vague until it was only the most tenuous sensation. She was sure that it would be gone soon, so she did not think about it anymore.

There was no time where she was. It might have only been a few seconds when she recognized the presence near her or it might have been an eon. The presence slowly brightened into a pale pewter gleam that clearly stood out against the white background. It tugged on her ever so gently.

_Karigan._

Was that her name? It sounded familiar. There was something about that name that called up memories of pain, though, so she shied away from it.

The presence fluctuated slowly into a shape – a man? No, an Eletian. Images and associations were coming back to her faster than she could push them away. Slowly, he lifted and extended his hands toward her, limned in the pale pewter light that defined him.

_Karigan. We're all here._

The images turned into memories and then into thoughts.

A tall man, broad shoulders with an easy, confident carriage. Trust and love radiated from him. _Dad_, she thought, slowly testing the name. It seemed right. It seemed to fit. The presence showed her another image of him, this time with his shoulders bowed and tears filling his brown eyes. Sadness overwhelmed him. He was waiting for something. For...her?

A perfectly balanced sword with the black band signifying mastery swung into a sequence that tugged more memories forth. The hand that held it was large and strong, well-callused from use. Granite features eased into a smile off-duty, lighting his hazel eyes. _Fastion_, she remembered. A Weapon. Her friend and mentor.

Amber eyes, well-kept amber beard with darker highlights. _Zachary_, her memory whispered to her. Emotion came back to her as she remembered the emotion in his eyes and the tenderness of his arms as he held her. The strength of the recollection brought other memories forward until they started to exert an unavoidable pressure on her. Suddenly, she was afraid and retreated away from the surge of memories and emotions that the shining pewter presence called forth. She was trying to avoid all of them. She remembered that much clearly.

The whiteness around her took on a faint impression of a whirling vortex of stars. All of the stars in the universe in all of their infinite patterns swirled grandly around her. Wings fluttered around her, a suggestion of great power and responsibility.

There was also a choice.

Instinctively, she knew that she stood on the threshold of an irrevocable decision. She could dive down into the stars or she could go with the pewter being beckoning to her, but either way it was final. She hovered, undecided. _If only I could remember more!_ She shied away from the idea. She didn't want to remember. Remembering meant hurt and pain and she did not want that anymore.

She started to turn down toward the starry field and felt more clearly the winged presence. It was more defined than the pewter presence reaching out for her. Waves of love washed over her, along with a clear feeling that it wasn't time yet. It was similar to something she had felt not very long ago.

_Westrion._ Her memory supplied the name and she smiled and reached out for him.

Westrion coalesced slowly, his wings buffering her and preventing her from descending any further. _Child of mine_, the great voice whispered in her mind. _I gave you no choice when I threw you back into the mortal world. Perhaps I have wronged you, as you seem so determined to find your way back to me. Decide then, beloved, and I shall honor your wishes._

_Karigan!_ The presence shining behind her cried out in denial and reached for her again. This time there was a sense of need and desperation and with her own choked cry she remembered the events she had tried so hard to forget. Mornhavon was still loose in the world and Sacoridia stood on the edge of war. She could not in good conscience abandon her responsibilities. Not yet.

Pride radiated from Westrion's figure as he slowly dissolved back into the starry background. _Remember, I will never leave you_. The same love and regret she vaguely remembered from before washed over her as she turned to grip the Eletian's hands securely.

Karigan opened her eyes slowly as weight returned to her. Weight and feeling. Slender, warm hands held her face firmly between them and she gazed up into the pale gray eyes of an Eletian. They no longer shone brightly, but she recognized him as the presence that called her back into herself. After another second, she recognized him in another way.

He saw the life return to her eyes and gave a triumphant laugh. "Karigan!" The sound was musical joy in her ears.

"Somial," she managed. Her voice sounded awful and she could barely force it out, but she brought up her good hand to cover his own on her face. "Somial, I'm alive." That sounded a little bit better, for he straightened up so she could see past him into the room. She was in the same room she remembered waking up in before, but this time it seemed packed full of people.

His face was solemn, but she could hear the smile in his voice. "You're alive," he agreed.

One of the people pushed forward and laid his hand on her forehead. "You're alive," he repeated after Somial, in a voice that trembled with emotion. It took a second for Karigan to recognize her father and everything that he didn't know about her flashed through her mind.

"Dad," she whispered. "I thought I would never see you again." She really had thought that, even once Brienne had brought her and Lhean back to the castle. Seeing him in person was a gift. She fervently thanked Westrion for the chance to make things right with him. Tears welled up in her eyes and she found herself crying.

Stevic seemed to feel the same way, for tears trickled down his own cheeks. "I'm here. I'm here. I'm so sorry, Karigan, for everything."

She snuffled and managed a wry smile. "I'm not so sure you have much to apologize for." She tried to reach up to him but pain screamed up from her wrist and she stifled a cry of agony. "I'd forgotten how much I hurt," she muttered, embarrassed. She didn't want her father to think she was weak.

"I thought you were going to heal her," Stevic faced the Eletian, obviously trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

Somial seemed unaffected and simply nodded in acknowledgment. "And I shall, Clan Chief. She had to choose to heal, first, to come back." He smoothed back the pale streak of hair from her temple.

_I almost didn't_. The words hovered on her tongue, but she bit them back as she saw the strain and grief etched in her father's face. Instead, she swallowed them and forced another smile on her face. To her surprise, it was not as difficult as she thought it would be.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dad," she said, and had to repress a grin as Stevic nodded very solemnly, the way he used to when she was a little girl asserting she was a grown up. "No, really," she protested. As always, her father smiled very gently and smoothed her hair back.

"I know, Karigan." He hesitated for a very long moment and then stepped back. "We shall leave you in peace then, so you can get well. I will be back soon." He looked at Somial and bowed very low. "You and yours have my thanks, healer. If there is anything you need, Clan G'ladheon will not forget our debt."

"You honor me, Clan Chief," Somial murmured. "In truth, as I mentioned before, you owe us nothing."

Stevic waved away that statement. "Nonetheless," he said. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, not looking back. The others hesitated, then followed him out. Before the door shut behind them, two black-clad figures slipped through to stand at attention on either side of the door.

"Sister-at-arms," said Brienne. Her dark hair was bound away from her eyes with a silken headband so there was nothing to disguise the gleam of pleasure in her eyes. Fastion, taller and broader, was much more stoic but unbent enough to nod briefly in her direction.

"Clan Chief G'ladheon has asked that someone always be present with you when he is not with you himself," Somial said softly. "Upon their request, your king Zachary has agreed that the Black Shields may serve as your guard and your father has agreed to this."

Karigan felt her mouth fall gape open and shut it hastily. "But," she stammered, then shut her mouth again before she embarrassed herself further. She had almost protested that she didn't need a guard, but between King Zachary and her father's insistence, there was no point in arguing the matter. It would only wound someone's feelings.

_I must be growing up_, she thought ruefully, _if I can be concerned about others' feelings when I am almost on my own deathbed_. Instead, she looked at her friends. "Thank you," she said sincerely, trying to put the appreciation she felt in her words. Somial nodded in approval and the sweetness of his smile swept away a little bit more of the pervasive weariness laying over her.

Somial wrapped his hand gently around her crushed wrist. He did this so lightly that Karigan barely even felt the pressure of his slender fingers. He leaned over her to peer into her eyes. "It is best if you lie still and look into my eyes, Karigan." His expression remained compassionate, with just the slightest hint of inquiry.

She gazed up into his pewter eyes. The longer she looked into them, the more depth they acquired. Subtly shifting shades of silver and gray caught and held her gaze until they occupied the entirety of her attention. Warmth flooded her body in waves that emanated from his hand. All of a sudden, the room faded away completely and complete peace cradled her. The warm, silver flame that Karigan associated with Somial's presence flickered and then faded away to merge with her. A gentle pressure of memories and feelings foreign to her layered softly against her own. Most of them were so far outside of her own experiences that they meant nothing to her, but some few seem to cling and cause subtle changes. This disturbed her enough that she thought about pulling away and putting some distance between them.

Before she could turn the thought into action, her wrist ached sharply once and was soothed by the pulsating warmth. It ached again as if it were tugged firmly and again the sensation was soothed away. This pattern continued throughout her entire body. As the pain started to lessen for good, her body started to remember how it should look and feel on its own. She remembered the feel of hefting a sword with her right hand and how it was to use both hands in a task, such as saddling Condor. Then how it felt to move easily and smoothly on both legs, her thighs flexing under her in anticipation of the next shift of balance.

Along with these came other memories. She had never been any good at crafting or at playing an instrument, but she somehow remembered how it felt to do both with long and nimble fingers. She knew the joy of raising her voice harmoniously with others in celebration of the turn of the seasons and even the sharp scent of the plants used to make the soothing _evalorean_ salve. She even knew the way it felt to learn and harness the gifts granted by one's nature.

Even lost in the healing trance, Karigan's eyes flew open wide. Somial's eyes widened simultaneously and the link between them was abruptly broken. He let go of her wrist like it burned him. "What was that?" she whispered, absently cradling her wrist. It still ached, but it was nowhere near as bad as the agony she remembered from the tombs.

Somial glanced away from her. "It is...a side effect of a healing of that nature," he said.

"I remember things I have never done," she said

"It should pass soon," the Eletian said. He started to get up and she reached out with her good hand to grab his arm.

"No," she said firmly. "What was that?"

His eyes met hers once again and she realized then that the sharing was two-sided. He remembered things she had done as if he had done them and it was as disorientating for him as it was for her.

"Please," she said. She let go of his arm as quickly as he had let go of her wrist. "I just want to understand."

"I do not know how much you will understand, but I will try." He sighed softly, the musical noise somehow soothing to Karigan's rattled nerves. "To Sacoridians, a true healing is magic. It is that, of a type, but it is also more." He grimaced briefly. "I do not like that word magic," he said firmly. "It is too vague a term for everything that you try to make it apply to. But a true healing uses the same focus and the same skills that any other type of magic uses. However, in order to heal someone, a healer must understand them. For one moment, their spirits are joined. They share emotions, knowledge and even actual memories and experiences. There is some danger in either the healer or the injured losing themselves in the other person, although this is very rare."

"So what happened just now..." Karigan trailed off.

"I had not thought to face that danger with you," he responded solemnly. "But we are similar enough despite our different backgrounds for our spirits to merge. You are not experienced enough to know how to separate yourself and I very nearly did not recognize the danger. I apologize, Karigan." Somial closed his eyes for a moment. "I think it best that you allow what is left of your injuries to heal at a natural pace, although they are few and no longer serious. You will regain full use of your hand, though," he said. "I made sure of that much."

Karigan nodded in dazed acknowledgment. "Please don't apologize. I can't thank you enough," she managed. She could still feel where his presence had pressed against hers, a distinctly foreign and yet utterly familiar sensation. His absence left a sort of hollow coldness behind that she knew no amount of warm blankets would fix. Helplessly, she looked up and caught his gaze.

Whatever he saw made him relent enough to settle back on the edge of her bed and wrap her in his arms. She returned the embrace wholeheartedly, unashamed of the tears stinging her eyes. "Karigan," he whispered in her hair. His arms tightened and then let her go. She forced her hands back at her sides. "It does get better."

She laughed a little shakily. "I hope so," she forced out. The smile that crossed her lips was genuine though. "Thank you so much," she said seriously. "I truly can't thank you enough."

His return smile was a little bit sad, she thought. "You have already done so much for us, Karigan. Giving you back the use of your wrist is little enough reward, with no permanent harm done. Keep it braced as you would a simple break for a few weeks, then take care working it back up to full strength."

"Are you leaving already?" the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"We have already been here for a week – but no," he said. "Not yet. I believe that Telagioth wants to forge a firmer alliance with your king."

"It's about time," she muttered under her breath.

Somial took his leave of her then, but the sound of his laughter lifted her spirits.

After he left, Karigan struggled to sit up. The effort totally exhausted her and she sagged back down in disgust. At least her wrist didn't hurt as badly as it used to. She glared at the offending appendage like it was the reason for her inability to sit. Muffled laughter drew her attention back to the doorway.

Strong hands braced and lifted her up as others arranged pillows to support her back. Before she knew what was happening, she was sitting up straight against the wall with two smug Weapons in front of her.

"Tsk," Fastion said, shaking his head sadly. "All she had to do was ask, sister," he said mournfully to Brienne.

Brienne mimicked the action, putting her hands on her hips as she stared at the Green Rider. "Maybe she doesn't realize that she has friends, brother," she said thoughtfully.

"Maybe she doesn't realize that we are her friends."

"Hmph."

"Or maybe she just forgot we were here."

Karigan looked from one mock stern face to the other in increasing confusion. "Aren't you supposed to be guarding the door?" The two stared at her with deadpan expressions until she writhed in embarrassment. "Oh, you know what I meant!" she exclaimed, laughing.

Fastion took pity on her. "There are two more Weapons outside of the door," he explained. "So long as no one is inside this room that requires us to breathe down their necks, we are mostly just here to keep you company."

"And make sure you have what you need," Brienne interjected. "Speaking of, you need something to eat."

As soon as she left the room in search of food, Fastion sat on the side of the bed where Somial had been sitting only a few minutes prior. Her face clouded over at the reminder. "Do you want me to move?" Fastion asked.

Karigan shook her head. To her surprise, tears welled up in her eyes and she fought to keep them from falling. "No," she finally managed.

"Did he hurt you, Karigan?" The question was serious. Karigan looked at her friend and saw no trace of the playful banter they often shared. There was only the Weapon now.

She was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. "Did you hear what he told me?" and when Fastion replied in the negative she took a few minutes to repeat Somial's explanation. Slowly, the hard and unforgiving look in his hazel eyes was replaced with compassion and he covered her good hand with both of his own.

"It is good to know that you will be wholly healed, soon," he murmured.

That was all he said, but Karigan heard the happiness underneath his calm words.

"Maybe you can finally teach me that overhand block you keep telling me about," she grinned. "I'm beginning to wonder if it's real or made up."

He snorted. "Please. You've seen me use it."

After a few more minutes of banter, Karigan felt more like herself than she had since before the start of the Blackveil expedition. When Brienne returned bearing a tray of food, she was able to eat everything she was given. Nothing dented her high spirits. She was alive and surrounded by friends and loved ones and she felt infused by a fresh determination to end the problem Mornhavon posed for everyone once and for all.

* * *

><p>Hopefully, this chapter makes up for the long wait between updates and the last chapter. Please feel free to let me know if there is anything in particular you love or hate about where this is going so far.<p>

Thank you so much for all of your reviews and encouragement so far!


	9. Chapter 9

Karigan managed to stay in Menders' Wing almost a full week before she decided she could not bear to stay in the cold stone room for even one more minute. The first several days were easy. Her body wanted nothing but sleep and then food, pretty much in that order. She would wake up from a nap to eat a bowl of soup and just as quickly fall back asleep. More than once, one of the Weapons in her room would have to catch the mug or bowl as she lost her grip on it when she did not realize she was falling asleep again. Occasionally, she was able to have short conversations with the people who came in to check on her. The one time King Zachary came to visit, she was deeply asleep. The Weapons in the room at the time exchanged glances and wordlessly decided to forget the visit ever occurred.

By the fourth day, the Rider was able to stay awake all day and it did not take very long before she was heartily tired of staying in bed. Even with lanterns turned up brightly and a brazier giving off heat, the room remained cold and impersonal. Every time she woke up, she had to convince herself that she was not back in that tomb under the crypts. She didn't think that she woke up crying out, but without fail one of the Weapons in the room with her would make sure the light from a lantern would fall on her face as she sat up gasping for air that she was afraid wasn't there. Each Green Rider and Weapon in the city made a point of stopping in for a least a moment even if she was asleep. The attention soothed her, but she could not help but be embarrassed that she needed it.

The fifth day, Karigan wanted to strangle somebody. Her wrist ached incessantly. She missed Condor more than she thought possible. The thought of having a real bath brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to kill her next visitor. Somehow, Fastion and Brienne got her through that particular day. They gently turned away the people flocking to look in on her, even her father. They brought her food and kept her thoughts off of her injuries. They discussed a training plan to get her back in fighting shape – without consulting a mender. They teased each other mercilessly and entertained the Rider by catching her up on all the Rider and Weapons news. Well, they called it news. She called it gossip. Karigan found herself giggling helplessly at more than one anecdote involving Mara and Donal and their stave training. She marveled at their openness with her, but could not deny the happiness that washed over her when she thought about it. All of the Weapons truly made her feel like the sister-at-arms they called her.

On the sixth day, Karigan slid out of bed and forced herself to stand up straight. "I'm leaving," she announced. She was proud of herself for maintaining a calm demeanor. Fastion eyed her briefly. She cringed inwardly, knowing that he saw her shaking limbs.

"Eat breakfast first," he suggested. His voice was mild and reasonable.

"I know that you think that I'm not ready - wait, what?" _That sounded intelligent, Karigan,_ she thought ruefully. _How else can I convince him I have to stay in Menders' another day or so?_

Fastion's face remained as stoic as ever, but Karigan had spent enough time with him at this point to see the minute twinkle in his hazel eyes.

"Eat breakfast first," he repeated casually. "You'll have a better chance of convincing Twyla to let you leave if you're steady on your feet."

"You're not going to stop me?" Karigan couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

The Weapon cast a brief glance up to the ceiling as if asking Aeryc for strength. "I am going to stop you if you don't have permission to leave," he said patiently. "However, if you eat, you will stop trembling. If you stop trembling, you may be able to make Twyla kick you out. If you're kicked out, you can pretty much do what you please. So eat breakfast first."

Almost on cue a distinctive tap on the door signaled Brienne's entrance bearing a tray of food. For a change, there was no broth or porridge in sight. A thick ham steak lay cradled by steaming shredded potatoes, all of which were topped with scrambled eggs. A large mug of strong, hot tea was the perfect complement to wash it all down and Karigan found that she was able to eat everything.

"I had no idea I was that hungry," she sighed in utter content when she was finished. It felt so good to eat real food like normal, but what she really wanted was to start living her life again. With that thought firmly in mind, she set about planning. In no time at all, she managed to cobble together an impressive method of attack designed to convince Twyla that she could be on her own now. It was mostly comprised of misdirection and exaggeration, of course, but surely since Karigan had managed to survive everything else in the last three years she could wheedle her way out of Menders'.

No sooner did she finish that thought than her door swung open and a Weapon ushered in Twyla. The Mender took one look at Karigan's face and threw her hands up in the air. "Why did I even expect anything else?" she asked the ceiling. "Aeryc and Aeryon preserve me." She scribbled something in a file and tossed it over to the counter. "Fine, Rider, you're officially released to your quarters. Light duty only, and keep that wrist splinted and immobile no matter what happens, or so help me..." she let words trail off ominously and fixed a fierce glare on the Rider.

Karigan felt her mouth hanging open in shock. "But..." she just barely managed to get out before Twyla ran right over her.

"Oh, don't look so shocked. You've been chomping at the bit for days. Destarion used to tell me that you Riders were the worst patients to step foot in Menders' Wing and so far I've yet to see anything to contradict him. Now go bother someone else." Still muttering under her breath about Riders that were more stubborn than their horses, the Mender turned and stalked out of the room.

Karigan didn't waste any time in hopping out of bed and scrambling into the loose-fitting clothing that Brienne had brought her along with breakfast. For a change, it was neither Rider Green nor Weapon Black. To her surprise, Fastion and Brienne trailed her out of the room and down the corridor.

"Are you going back to your quarters?" she asked suspiciously.

"No," they answered simultaneously.

"Are you going to go guard the King?" she asked.

The question seemed to merit some thought and a quick glance between the two Weapons before Fastion shrugged slightly and Brienne replied with another decisive no. "It's not our shift yet," she added after another half a minute.

Karigan mulled that over as she approached the Rider quarters with the two Weapons at her heels. When they still dogged her footsteps she had a sinking feeling she knew what was happening. "Then why are you still following me?"

Their answer was washed away in the cheers of welcome that greeted Karigan as she entered the Green Riders' common area in their quarters of the castle. The room was warm and brightly lit despite its interior position in the building. Over the last six months, the Riders had managed to add enough personal touches that it no longer felt cold and unwelcoming and Karigan smiled in spite of herself as Riders leaped over each other to greet her and make sure she was okay. Garth leapt up from the chair closest to the fire and urged her to sit. Mara pressed a cup of tea on her. Even Captain Mapstone was present and saluted her cheerfully in between moves of the game she was playing.

Karigan sat numbly and drank her tea in a futile effort to stave off the tears welling up in her eyes. Her smile felt wider than her face though, and she finally set aside her teacup to scrub at her face with her sleeve. The other Riders casually ignored her blatant emotions and made her feel like she was finally home. They teased her and comforted her all without asking questions she couldn't or wouldn't answer. After so long floating in between worlds, their love and care for her was the balm she needed to heal the last of her lingering doubts about where she truly belonged.

Through all this Fastion and Brienne stood casually by the common room door leading to the castle proper. It only took a glance for Karigan to realize they were as relaxed as Weapons ever got and not formally on duty, but after the third uneasy look from the newest recruit – was Loren his name? - she made a point of pulling them into the conversation. After another thirty minutes of casual talk, the others didn't even remember the two were Weapons and not Riders. In the middle of a spirited discussion about the quickest ways into and out of the city proper, Captain Mapstone leaned against the armchair Karigan was sitting in. She gave every evidence of being interested in the conversation, but after a few pertinent observations she pitched her voice for Karigan alone.

"You did a good job there, Karigan. By including the Weapons in our gathering," she elaborated after a blank look. "It's more important than ever for Sacoridians to stick together and you seem to have a talent for inspiring just that."

Karigan bit her tongue and glanced away into the fire to prevent her irritation from getting away from her. _I inspire anything but solidarity_, she thought bitterly before she could stop herself, thinking of King Zachary and Queen Estora. That quickly, her good mood was gone. _I wish Condor was here. I would do anything for a quick ride around the paddock with him. Or even to just brush him down in the stables. _Instead, she forced her lips into a semblance of a smile and thanked the Captain for her compliment.

Captain Mapstone flashed a quick, unhappy smile at her Rider that told Karigan more than words that her resentment was noticed. "I managed to get you off the hook for tonight on the grounds of exhaustion, but the King and Council will want to see you tomorrow morning first thing." The Captain looked away from Karigan into the fire. "I could not persuade them to wait another day, although I tried."

Shame welled up in Karigan. _It's not the Captain's fault_, she told herself fiercely upon seeing the expression on Captain Mapstone's face. _Don't take it out on her_. She glanced almost involuntarily at the Weapons and Fastion gave her an almost imperceptible nod of encouragement. The exchange gave her enough strength that she managed a genuine smile. "Thank you, Captain," she said softly. "I appreciate the extra night of rest. Almost everyone told me I shouldn't leave Menders' yet, but I couldn't bear to spend another night in that room."

"I know exactly what you mean," Captain Mapstone said wryly, touching her scar by way of emphasis. "I wish I could have bought you more time, but we really need to hear your account of things since no one else encountered Mornhavon quite the same way you did."

"I'll see you first thing in the morning, then," Karigan said.

"You might want to visit with your father first." Without explaining her last statement, the Captain casually made her goodbyes and strode out of the common room. Karigan rubbed absently at the lingering itch in her leg and remembered ruefully how futile it was to get the last word in a conversation with Captain Mapstone.

* * *

><p>Stevic G'ladheon regarded the unlit fireplace in his guest suite moodily, tapping at the arm of the overstuffed chair he reclined in. Time seemed to creep by more and more slowly with each day he was forced to wait on his daughter's recovery. Each day, his patience for the unaccustomed action waned even further. He was arguably the most successful merchant in Sacoridia. He did not come by his wealth by simply <em>waiting<em> for opportunities to drop in his lap. However, he acknowledged that there was a time and place for everything and that this was one of those very rare instances where he could do nothing to help accelerate the situation. Knowing a thing and accepting a thing were two very different actions, however, and he could no more help but chafe at the bit, so to speak, than he could help Karigan heal more quickly.

The first several days after Somial had healed Karigan of the worst of her injuries, Stevic was able to distract himself quite profitably by mingling with the courtiers of King Zachary's court and hammering out alliance-pacts with a select few of the fellow merchants currently trading in Sacor City. He took the time to spend one entire morning quite handily pulling the ground out from underneath one of his biggest rivals as she attempted to gain support from Queen Estora to overturn a decision made by King Zachary – with Karigan's advice – a year and some ago. That was singularly satisfying, but if only the rest of the interminable days would go by so quickly!

In the evenings, a Weapon would generally drop by with a carefully neutral report on his daughter's health and activities. He knew that this was as much for Karigan's benefit as for his own, but he recognized the courtesy behind the otherwise unnecessary action and made it clear that he deeply appreciated the updates. While he did not truly understand the bond between Karigan and the Black Shields, he knew that it was extraordinary. That sense was confirmed when Fastion quite casually mentioned last night that she was well into her swordmaster training before the expedition into Blackveil Forest and praised her progress and tenacity. The clan chief managed to stammer out a couple of pleasant-sounding statements by way of recognition before retiring in almost complete confusion.

"Everyone seems to know more about my daughter than I do," he observed glumly to his cargo master that night. "Where did I go wrong?"

Sevano shrugged, a sardonic grin crossing his face lightning-quick. "I daresay every father says that about his children at one point or the other, Chief." He seemed to sense his Clan Chief's melancholy mood went deeper than the words indicated and stood to place his hand supportively on Stevic's shoulder. "The fact is that all children grow up, Stevic. You should take pride that you've raised Kari as well as you have. She's a credit to you and to the Clan, and aye, to Sacoridia as well. Maybe she's hidden some things from you, but you've hidden some things from her too. Are you proud of her?"

"Of course I am!" Stevic snorted dismissively.

"Then show it, by all the gods! She thinks you don't approve of her accomplishments because of that magic the Greenie's – uh, Riders - have." Sevano's face twisted in discomfort, but he pushed past it gamely. "You don't have to like the magic to like her accomplishments. She may have some mystical help but it's her own brains and her own courage that's gotten her this far."

Stevic thought about this for a long time in silence, never noticing when Sevano patted his shoulder gently and took himself off to his bed.

Now, staring at the empty fireplace in the middle of the day, Stevic remembered the same despairing thoughts crossing his mind as he listened to Somial's reasons for desiring to heal Karigan and made a decision. Karigan had been discharged earlier in the day to return to her quarters in the Green Riders' Wing. Regardless of Sevano's comforting words last night, he knew that he had made a fundamental error in allowing his native distrust in magic to cloud his judgment in regards to his only child. He could only pray that he was not too late to start rectifying his mistakes. He would listen to her with an open mind if it was the last thing he did. _Kariny, I wish you were here_, he thought mournfully, as he did at least two or three times a day. _How you would laugh at the mess I find myself in!_

Suddenly full of energy and purpose, he got up to go find his willful, impossible daughter. He was reasonably certain at this point that one of the Weapons would agree to direct his steps to the Riders' Wing. He reminded himself firmly of the need to remain calm no matter what happened. He took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled open the door to his suite - only to encounter a healthy-looking Karigan on the other side of it, hand raised to knock. He stared at her, too startled to say anything at first. Instead, he just drank in the sight of her.

His daughter was dressed in plain brown trousers and a loose linen shirt. The clothes hung on her too-thin frame, a silent witness to the weight lost during her convalescence. Her wrist was tightly splinted and wrapped with fresh bandages. Her hair was clean and shone in the lamplight though, and while she still looked tired, no pain twisted her features. Her eyes started to cloud over in apprehension at Stevic's surprised silence and he just strode forward and pulled her into his arms.

"Karigan, thank the gods you're alive and well," he breathed into her hair. To his consternation, tears welled up in his eyes, but he made no move to hide them. He pushed her away so he could study her at arms' length. "I thought you were lost to me," he murmured. "I thought I would never have the chance to tell you how much I love you, and how proud of you I am."

The shadows left her eyes at that and she darted into his arms again, clearly suppressing her own tears. After a moment, she pulled back and swiped at her tears with her sleeve. "Do you think we could go outside?" she asked hesitantly. "I think we should get out of the hallway and I'm tired of being cooped up inside all day."

Stevic chuckled. "You've never liked being inside anyway," he said, amused. "Is there a place we can talk in some privacy?"

Karigan linked her arm in her father's and led him slowly through the castle. Their route took them through several wings of the castle, all fairly heavily populated. Each time they passed someone, the Rider took care to nod pleasantly at them before resuming the polite surface conversation she maintained with her father. Eventually, they reached the pastures behind the castle and Karigan let go of Stevic's arm with an explosive sigh of exasperation. "At last!" she muttered fervently. She settled down on a bench underneath the spreading arms of an old oak tree and turned her face up into the dappled summer sunlight.

"Well, at least we'll see anyone close enough to hear us," she said eventually. She looked up at her father as he stood next to the bench. "It's about as close to privacy as you can get on the castle grounds, I'm afraid."

Stevic nodded easily and leaned up against the tree trunk. After several moments of companionable silence, he spoke. "You scared me to death, you know," he said. He remembered his own injunction to remain calm and took a deep breath, smoothing the remembered emotions away from his features. "All I could do was stand there and watch. It reminded me very strongly of the night Kariny died giving birth to you," he said softly. "All I could do then was watch, as well."

Karigan bit her lip and cast her gaze down to the bench. "I never meant to upset you so much," she said, so softly that he had to lean in a little closer to hear her clearly.

He found himself nodding, marveling at how easy everything was going to be after all. "I never gave you a chance to explain things to me," he replied, still oddly calm and appreciating the simple gift of being able to talk to his daughter once again when he had thought time had run out for them.

"Is it something you really want to know about? I understand if you don't." Her voice was wary, still full of remembered apprehension of his hatred of magic and underlying the cautious note was some remembered heartache.

Stevic didn't answer right away. He looked out over the pasture with the horses grazing along the fence and let the breeze ruffle his hair. Eventually, he turned and took the seat next to Karigan, reaching over to hold her left hand firmly with his own. "I think I have done both of us and your mother's memory a great disservice," he said firmly. "I think that I miss my daughter and knowing what is going on in her life. And I think that it's my fault if I have a hard time accepting magic and not your own. You have never done anything to cause me or any other of the Clan harm and you have done many things to bring us pride. Sevano reminded me of that last night. If you can accept my apology and tell me what has really happened over the last four years, I will do my best to listen with an open mind and not let my prejudices get in the way of our relationship any longer."

Karigan's eyes filled with tears again and she squeezed his hand once before pulling away and wrapping her arms around her waist. She stared off into the distance. For a moment, Stevic was concerned that he had pressed things too far, too fast, but then she spoke in the same soft voice she had used before. "When I decided to run away from Selium..."

The tale spilling from her lips was much more candid than her heavily edited letters had been. More than once, Stevic had to physically prevent himself from showing some bodily reaction. Sometimes he wanted to shake his head in sheer incredulity. It was like she was a bard spinning some bizarre combination of folklore and history with a hefty dose of fanciful impossibility. Sometimes he had to hold back tears as he empathized with some of the situations she had faced alone and the losses she shared with the other Riders. Most of the time, he just wanted to tremble in fear at all of the dangers that surrounded her. Not pulling her into his arms during these times proved to be the hardest for him to do, but he knew somewhere deep inside that if he ruined this chance, she might never speak of it again. They were too similar and their wounds too fresh.

"So now Mornhavon, our own ancestor's Lord, roves Blackveil freely, aided by a necromancer of some power and no one knows quite what to do about it," she finished finally. "Except that both the Eletians and the Sacoridians think I might be able to do something. Although no one seems to know what that something is supposed to be."

Out of long habit from his sea-faring days, Stevic tipped his head meditatively toward the sky as he pondered everything he learned. Darkness had long since fallen as she spoke and the hot, still air of late summer lay around them like a muffling blanket. The city lights were far too bright for him to make out the stars, though. He felt a little bit adrift without any guiding pattern to lead his way. _This is all far beyond my ken_, he thought heavily. But then, how much worse must Karigan feel? How much more pressure?

"I think I should like to read Hadriax's journal," he murmured at length, not having any other response to give his daughter right away. It would take a long time to process everything and decide how to best deal with it.

He felt more than saw her nod. "I have a copy in my room," she replied as quietly. "I've pretty much memorized it at this point. It was meant for the Clan as a whole anyway; a gift from Estral and her father." A pained note entered her voice at the mention of her best friend.

"It's not her fault, you know," Stevic offered gently as he remembered the story of their strained parting at the Wall. "She can't help who she fell in love with."

"No," Karigan whispered. "I know that. That's...that's not it. At least, not really." She sniffed back the tears that her father could hear in her voice. He reached out and grasped her hand again, letting her know without words that he was there for her. "I didn't really love Alton. At least, not like that. I know that now. And I know deep inside I wasn't very fair to him. But they hid it from me and that hurt. I could have forgiven that," she continued brokenly, "but she took my feelings and my deepest secret and shared them with him after she swore on her honor that she would never share them with anybody. She's a Bard and she broke her word. I don't know what to do anymore. I'll never get away from it now and it's so wrong and it's so impossible and it doesn't even matter anymore." The last words dissolved into open tears and she finally leaned into him, accepting a father's comfort for his child's broken heart.

His heart broke for her and he held her wordlessly, rocking her gently and smoothing back her long hair. "Ah, Kari, lass. I know it hurts." In that moment, he felt connected to every parent that had ever grieved for their child's heartache. Karigan's tears eventually subsided into occasional sniffles although she made no move to extract herself from his arms. He was still staring at the sky as information fell together as neatly as putting the pieces of a puzzle together.

_"You can't help you fall in love with," _he remembered telling his daughter. _"No, I know that,"_ she had said. _"...it's so wrong and it's so impossible and it doesn't even matter anymore," _regarding her secret.

King Zachary had more than once called Karigan by name, not title, and his expression had been one that Stevic had seen in his own face after his Kariny had died. _"Thank you for allowing the Eletians to look at Karigan,"_ the King had said, too low for anyone else to overhear. He swallowed convulsively and his gaze turned just a little bit distant, as if trying to make out something too far away to easily see. _"She is so important."_ At the time, Stevic had been too stunned to take the words as anything other than more praise for his daughter and a polite desire to conserve a valuable resource. Looking back at it, it seemed to be so much more personal than that.

The way Queen Estora seemed genuinely concerned over Karigan's health one moment, then aloof and distant the next.

The way King Zachary had fiercely negotiated terms acceptable to both the Sacoridian court as well as the Eletians, all the while making sure Stevic was included in the decision making.

Captain Mapstone's look of guilt when she looked at the king.

Karigan's continual avoidance of mentioning either the king or queen outside of relating specific events pertinent to one of the rulers.

The many, many rumors that the king was reluctant to marry because of a common woman.

_Karigan loves Zachary. Or Zachary loves her. Or both_, he thought, stunned beyond disbelief. _But how did this even happen?_ After another moment he bowed his head over hers and tightened his arms around her unconsciously. His grief for his daughter's heartache came back a thousandfold, for surely there was no happy ending to this story.

"Kari," he began hesitantly. He searched for the words to express his thoughts. It was normally an easy task, but this was almost too much for him to encompass, let alone talk about. "Kari, he's married," he settled for finally, as gently as possible.

Karigan didn't pull away from him the way he half-expected her to, but sank deeper into his arms. "I said it was impossible," she reminded him. Her voice was muffled by his shirt, but the resignation in it still came across clearly. She did not pretend ignorance or try to deflect him, as he also half-expected.

"You know I would never disgrace the Clan, right? Not like that."

Stevic nodded silently into her hair, stroking it softly.

"I didn't even know, until Estral forced me to put it into words," Karigan sat up and rubbed her cast in a quick, nervous gesture. "And she swore never to tell, which obviously did not matter for long." Oh, the bitterness in her voice, quickly suppressed.

"I was friends with her, until the marriage contract," she whispered harshly, her words somehow making it clear that she was no longer talking about Estral but about the queen instead. "And now I can no longer bring myself to talk to her, because I feel so guilty. So I throw myself into being a Green Rider and my weapons training so I can try and forget about – everything - for a little while. Even when I saved her from those bandits, it was more because of guilt than any kind of civic duty. And also for him, because I did not want him to hurt.

"Until recently, you didn't understand my association with the Riders. The Riders don't understand my association with the Weapons. Knowing them and training with them makes my guilt so much worse because they are so devoted to the crown by nature and no one at all understands my brooch or the abilities it gives me. Not the Riders and not myself.

"Every time I am injured, I want nothing so much as to be declared fit for duty again so I can get back on Condor and gallop away from everything that I don't want to deal with. I get away with it in the name of service to king and country. All around me darkness is rising and people are dying. And yet, I still live and am hailed as a hero for it!"

"Stop this!" The rest of her words died under the harsh weight of Stevic's words. He thought quickly, not wanting to push her away after she had finally opened up to him.

"Karigan, listen to me." He captured her hand again in both of his and stared at the pale oval of her face just barely visible in the night. "I want you to listen to me for a moment. If you can't accept what I say, that's fine, but I want you to remember the words for another night when you can.

"You are a bright, brilliant young woman that happens to be extremely good at the job you have chosen to take on. You are recognized for this and for no other reason. You seem to have this expectation that you need to be perfect; well, I can say with some certainty that you are a mortal and not Sevelon. Flesh and blood, Karigan. You feel things. You sometimes get angry. You're often impatient. You laugh, you make friends, you love. That's all a part of life and you cannot feel guilty about it. You make mistakes, but I know I've taught you to accept your mistakes and their consequences and then move on, having learned your lesson. So long as you do that and acknowledge even the unpleasant truths about yourself that you'd rather not know about if you had the choice, then you can't hold yourself responsible for every little thing that happens in life.

"You're a G'ladheon, heir to this Clan and everything I have built. You will never disgrace our name, no matter its' origins. You have proven yourself over and over again and I'm so proud of you. My one regret is that I had to almost lose you to tell you any of this. I love you more than I can possibly express." He gave her another fierce hug and then tugged her up. "Come on. It's nigh midnight and Sevano will be clucking like a mother hen pretty soon."

Karigan gave a slightly watery chuckle and let him pull her to her feet. She was hot, her eyes were scratchy and dry and her head felt like an over-stuffed ball due to the congestion from crying so much, but she felt better than she ever remembered. Even encountering the king and queen returning from a social engagement could not dampen the joy and relief she felt in regaining the closeness she had always associated with her love for her father.

* * *

><p>I sincerely hope this chapter was worth the wait, as I struggled quite a bit with it. Don't worry, the plot will advance a bit in the next chapter.<p> 


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